


Yesterday (All My Troubles Seemed So Far Away)

by thelesterfam (phananddragonsfics)



Series: au [10]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: AU, Angst, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Kind of slow burn but not really, M/M, Phandom Big Bang, Phandom Big Bang 2017, Slow Burn, Strangers to Friends, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, alternative universe, band member!dan, botanist!phil, but i'll tag it anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2019-01-30 17:35:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 36,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12658236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phananddragonsfics/pseuds/thelesterfam
Summary: Daniel Howell, lead guitarist for the band The Tomorrows, is tired of his life in the spotlight and all the struggles that come with it. So, one night, he abruptly leaves his band in the middle of their tour and finds himself in a small town near Manchester, where he meets a group of people who seem to have no idea that Dan is a famous musician. Dan decides to use this to his advantage to pretend as though his fame doesn’t exist so he can be like a normal person. Will he be successful, or will his lying ways cause even more trouble to stir?





	Yesterday (All My Troubles Seemed So Far Away)

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my God, here it is: my PBB 2017 fic! This was my first PBB experience, so I’m very excited to share it with all of you, as I have worked extremely hard on it, and I hope all of you like it!
> 
> I would like to thank @killingmeitsso2yearsago for being an awesome beta, and thank you so much to @missritch for her awesome art! You guys are both so great, and thank you so much for helping me bring this story to life! And, of course, thank you to Mel and Natalia for being awesome squad mods and helps :D And thanks to everyone else who helped out with the PBB; this was an amazing experience, and I’m really glad I decided to do it! 
> 
> So, I won’t keep you guys waiting any longer; here it is, my baby, “Yesterday” :D

The final chord of the song rings forth and sounds throughout the stadium. The adrenaline rushes through their systems, and breath seems basically impossible to catch, as if their hearts will never relax and the beating of their hearts will never slow down.

The volume of the euphonic sound ringing through the room lowers and lowers, and for one whole second, the entire vicinity is silent.

After, screams are heard coming from every direction, to the point where it all just mushes together into just _noise;_  there’s no other word fit to describe what it sounds and feels like.

Bright lights shine into their pupils, a spectacle that is perpetually entrenched into their brains, and will remain there always.

When they attempt to go to sleep tonight, all they’ll be able to see is the glowing of the lights and hear the roar of the crowds, keeping them up until unearthly hours into the night.

But it’s those little things that keeps them doing this.

Time goes by so slowly as the chorus of fans screaming their admirations and praises fill their ears.

He should be relishing in this.

But he’s not.

——————————–

“Great show, guys,” their manager tells them as they march in a single-file line off the stage. He pats each one of them on their backs as a form of congratulations. “No meet-and-greet tonight; it’ll take too long. Be back on the bus in fifteen. We’re driving through the night to our next stop.”

All of them nod their heads as they each take one of the towels from their manager’s assistant to wipe off the sticky, disgusting sweat from their face and necks.

Stagehands and roadies take their instruments to put on the racks. They also take their microphones, and their earplugs away from them, the whole process feeling claustrophobic; having people surrounding them, touching them, and speaking to them is overwhelming.

Another stagehand directs them where to leave the backstage area and go to their dressing rooms so they can get out of the concert attire and into something more comfortable to travel in before boarding the bus to take them to Lord-knows-where.

Ryan whistles a long note once they enter the air-conditioned hallway. He drapes his towel on his shoulder and places his hands confidently on his hips. “One of the best, I’d say,” he remarks. He spins around on his heel, walking backwards to face the group.

Now is the time when Ryan gives a review of everyone’s performance during the show. He makes statements and feedback for all the other members, and he assumes he did perfectly. It’s how it always is, and it’s unfortunately how it’s always going to be.

Dan sighs. He fucking hates this part of the shows.

Ryan starts with PJ. “Peej, great idea with having us cover that Panic! song. The fans went mental.”

PJ grins and cracks his knuckles and neck at the same time. “I know what our fans like,” he jokes. He looks over at Dan and grins proudly. He had brought up the proposition to him first, after all.

Dan was the one who told him to talk to Ryan about adding it to the set list. If Dan had brought it up, it would’ve been shot down immediately. Dan can guarantee that one-hundred percent.

“And Kyle, your solo during ‘Temperance’ was as badass as always,” Ryan says to the drummer, who sticks his drumsticks in the back pocket of his jeans.

“It’s the best part of the show, really,” Kyle says, chuckling as he stretches his arms. “It’s quite the workout.”

Dan had been the one to suggest there be a drum solo during the live performances of that song. Kyle definitely gives him the credit, but Ryan? He definitely would never.

Ryan nods his head and turns to Luke. “The jazz-bass style during ‘Clones’ was the best you’d ever played it.”

“I try,” Luke replies, shrugging his shoulders.

Dan had been the one to say that the song should have a jazz-style to it. At first Ryan had rejected it; they had a style, and he felt like they should stick to it. But, of-fucking-course when their producer tells him they should switch it up a bit, Ryan instantly says jazz would fit perfectly.

And, as you can guess, Ryan took all the credit.

Dan clenches then unclenches his fist. He just needs to calm down a little. He exhales through his nostrils deeply, closes his eyes for a brief moment, and relaxes his shoulders.

Then, Ryan turns to Dan, his smile faltering incredibly noticeably. Dan bites the inside of his bottom lip; he knows it’s coming. It always happens. Every single time, without fail, it happens.

“Dan, your acoustic seemed flat during the ballads, and it was really hard to sing them on-key,” Ryan comments. “Did you even tune it? You know it’s been cold out recently, and your acoustic case definitely doesn’t have good insulation.”

Dan lowers his brown eyes to the floor and nervously places his hands in his pockets, needing something to distract him. “I…yeah, I tuned it, but…like you said, it was just cold, and it must have gone flat when I was using the electric for all the others…” he trails off, his voice far quieter than Ryan’s.

It’s always like this – he compliments the other guys, but no matter how well Dan actually plays during the show, it’s never exactly what Ryan wants. He always manages to find something wrong with his performance. It’s been that way since the band was formed.

And it’s never gotten easier for Dan to take the criticism. He’s been dealing with this for five years, and it’s never gone away.  

He doubts it ever will, considering it’s lasted this long.

“You have time while I’m introducing the ballads to tune,” Ryan says.

“It’s not always that easy-“

“You have perfect pitch, don’t you?” Ryan asks, furrowing his eyebrows. “Shouldn’t it be easy for you, then?”

Dan wants to fight back, but the man doesn’t play any instruments, so it would be incredibly difficult to explain to him that, especially in the middle of the concert with fans screaming no matter what you’re doing, tuning, even with perfect pitch, isn’t as easy as he might think.

Dan sighs and runs an anxious hand through his curly hair. “I’ll, uh…I’ll be more careful next time,” he says softly.

“That’s all I ask,” Ryan replies with a hint of egocentrism in his voice…yeah, like that’s an uncommon feature he portrays.

He spins around and runs a bit ahead of the group, wanting to get to his dressing room first. Dan mentally flips the dude off and keeps his head low.

PJ steps behind so he is strolling beside Dan. He pats Dan hard on the shoulder, gripping it tightly. He and Dan have always been close; they lived on the same street when they were in primary school, and they took guitar lessons together. However, Dan ended up quieting said lessons about half a year into it, since he found he preferred to learn on his own.

“Hey, I thought you did great,” he says. “You were as virtuoistic as usual.”

“Virtuosic?”

PJ nods his head and gives a toothy smile. “See, you were always the smarter one of us!”

Dan rolls his eyes and sticks his hands in his pockets. “Whatever,” he says simply, not quite sure how to respond to his statement.

PJ pats his shoulder a few more times. “Really, though; your performance was awesome,” he reiterates. “You really know how to manipulate the instrument to make the songs more interesting and personal. It’s legit, like,  _hypnotic_ and fucking amazing.”

Dan merely shrugs his shoulders.

He scoffs. “Dude, you’re way too humble. Accept my compliment, goddamn it!” he exclaims. “All you need to do is say ‘thank you, Peej’ and smile a little.”

Dan shakes his head. “Thank you,  _Peej_ ,” he says in a theatrical voice, giving the fakest, most disingenuous smile afterwards.

PJ laughs and separates from Dan. “That’s more like it! You’re getting the hang of it, Mr. Pessimist.”

“Whatever you say, Mr. Optimist.”

——————————————–

Much later that night, with a lukewarm mug of instant coffee in his hands, his Pokémon Trainer pyjama bottoms and an over-sized T-shirt, Dan sits in the living space of the tour bus alone, his legs up on the seat with him as he looks out the window, little droplets of rain pouring from the midnight sky.

It’s his time when he can finally just be alone, think, and not have to worry about trying to get approval from Ryan. He can just be Dan, and not Dan Howell, lead guitarist of The Tomorrows.

His fingertips ache a little from playing more than usual today – they had arrived at the venue in London far earlier than expected, so their manager had them practice for an hour more than they were used to. And, then, of course, he had to warm up before the show, and then actually do the performance.

Their first album was released only about two months prior, and they’re going around the UK to promote it. They’ve got a pretty decent sized group of fans, as most found them out through Ryan’s YouTube channel, where he would post just him singing covers of different songs. People really loved him, and when they looked him up, they found he was the lead singer of a band, thus prompting them to listen to the band.

And even though Dan and Ryan obviously have their disagreements, there’s no way in hell Dan would ever say Ryan wasn’t talented. The man could  _definitely_ sing.

His voice could be demanding and powerful during the highly energetic, loud songs, but he could also sound desperate and soft during the ballads. He puts so much emotion into his music that it’s not even funny.

But just for  _some reason_ , he just doesn’t get along with Dan. And Dan has never quite been able to figure that one out. It’s how he’s always been, ever since the two met.

Dan sighs. At least the other guys are nice to him. Well, specifically PJ. The other guys are indifferent. They’re friends, yeah, but they’re not as close as some might think…even what their fans might believe.

Even though they’ve been doing this for five years, it’s still difficult for Dan to carry on a conversation with anyone in the band…well, besides PJ.

It’s a tough career all around, really. That’s basically a given. Most people have dreams of being in a band or being a well-known performer or  _whatever_ , but it’s fucking  _hard_.

It can be enjoyable, and yes, Dan is truly thankful for being able to do this as a job, but sometimes it’s so hard to be away from home for so long, to be in a room with thousands of people screaming his and the other members’ names, and to travel on a bus with a miniscule bunk as his bed (he’s over six-feet tall, so it’s a fucking struggle to fall asleep at night).

He loves music; it’s his passion, and it’s the only thing he’s ever truly loved to do, and it’s one of the things he’s actually good at doing.

He’s always known he wanted to do something with music, ever since he was a child, but he always thought it was for naught. After all, doing something musical as a career is usually a pretty dumb life choice…or, at least, that’s what he was always told.

Everyone would say “you can’t do music as a career”, “there’s probably a less than one-percent chance that you’ll actually be able to be successful with music” and “what are you going to fall back on once you inevitably fail?”.

Okay, that last one was a bit of an exaggeration.

And, of course, Dan being…well,  _Dan_ , sought out to prove them wrong. He and PJ started a band, started writing music, started learning their instruments more seriously, all those other things. Ryan started getting famous with YouTube, started getting noticed by music producers, and they got picked up by a label, and within five years, their first album was released.

Basically, Dan flipped the bird to all the people who told him he would never be successful.

But now, Dan is honestly beginning to regret this decision.

Yes, it had always been a big dream of his to perform with his guitar on stage in a band. However, he didn’t realize just how demanding and fucking difficult this career is.

He’s constantly being judged by not only his fans, but by the producers, the managers, and even his own bandmates. He is expected to always want to perform the same songs over and over again (he didn’t realize just how boring it is to play the same songs nearly every night for what seems like an infinite amount of time).

And, worst of all, no one ever takes into consideration his mental state.

Like, literally no one ever cares if he’s feeling anxious or depressed or hasn’t slept in over twenty hours or doesn’t feel like talking but has to do an interview with the band, and blah-blah-blah. If Dan does ever bring it up, they’ll just tell him to deal with it or suck it up.

So Dan just stopped telling people all together, thus leaving it to bottle up inside, where it impatiently awaits for the day where it gets too much and explodes into a billion pieces.

Dan is sure that day is coming soon.

He’s honestly done with this. He’s  _been_  done, honestly. All he wants to do is go home and escape from this…this  _madness_  that is his career.

He wants to be able to go to a Tesco’s or whatever without having to wear sunglasses to hide his identity. He wants to be able to rest his fingertips for days at a time instead of hours. He wants to be able to go to a concert without having to perform at it.

He just wants to live a normal life again.

Dan sighs and rests his head on the back of the seat. He takes a long sip of his coffee and watches the rain pour down from the sky. He can guess he’s probably going to fall asleep right here, even though he could easily just get up and go to his bunk, which is just a few feet away from him.

However, he just seems a lot more comfortable here; it might be because the gloomy weather fits his mood, or it might be because he’s too lazy to get up. Either way, he’s probably going to end up here for the rest of the night, hating his life the next morning because he’ll be indescribably sore. He thinks it’ll be a hell-of-a-lot better than those damn bunks, though.

He prays to whatever divine being exists that tomorrow they’ll be staying in a hotel. If he has to stay on this bus for  _one more night_ , he’s actually going to murder someone.

———————————

“…I’m here today with Ryan, Luke, Kyle, PJ, and Dan from The Tomorrows, here to talk about their self-titled album and their tour! How are you doing this morning, guys?” the interviewer the next morning asks with far too much energy for nine in the morning.

They got to Brighton after Dan had fallen asleep on the couch last night (which makes Dan pissed that they didn’t stop at a fucking hotel), and were woken up by their manager the next morning to the news that they were going to be on a local radio station in T-minus two hours.

Dan didn’t get to shower, his hair is definitely not straight enough for his liking, his eyes are twitching, and he needs a venti caramel macchiato  _pronto_. He just needs to make it through this interview, then probably a rehearsal, then probably a meeting, and  _then_  he can take a quick nap before rehearsal and set-up, and then the performance, and probably a meet-up.

He groans internally. He’s so fucking tired, both mentally and physically. He needs a fucking  _break_.

“Great!” Ryan exclaims, also far too enthusiastic for how early it is. “How are you?”

“Awesome, thank you,” the interview says, sifting through his questions. “So, you’ve just released your first album, and it’s been doing really amazing so far. Is the accomplishment and success shocking to you, or did you almost expect it, considering your major following even before releasing a record?”

Ryan nods his head and folds his hands neatly on his lap. “I was honestly shocked when we saw that so many people were buying our record,” he replies, shrugging his shoulders afterwards. “I really didn’t expect that many to buy it, considering we’re such a new band to the world and we’ve only really been…y’know, opening acts for, like, uber amazing bands like Imagine Dragons and others.”

“It’s been really awesome, though,” Kyle says.

Luke nods his head. “And Ryan’s YouTube following definitely helped us out,” Luke adds. “He’d been growing an audience for a few years before we all got discovered through that, so…” he trails off, looking to the other guys to help him finish his thought.

“Yeah, definitely,” PJ says, nodding his head. “If it hadn’t been for that, I honestly don’t think we’d be as big as we are already.”

“Are you still putting up videos on your channel?” the interviewer asks Ryan.

He shakes his head. “I’ve mostly just been putting time into the band,” he answers. “Getting us rolling to where we need to be has been my main priority over these past few months, so the channel’s been abandoned for the time being.”

Dan honestly wants to roll his eyes, but he knows there’s at least one camera on the five of them, so he has to be careful. He chooses to remain unexpressive to avoid any potential conflict.

“He still checks the comments and everything nearly every day on our breaks or when we’re on the bus,” Kyle explains.

“Yeah, I’m still really interested in what they all have to say, you know?” Ryan adds.

The questions go on like that for a few more minutes: the guy asks a question, Ryan answers it in the most gag-worthy way, the other guys back him up, and so on and so forth. The interviewer, however, notices that Dan hasn’t responded to literally any question given to the group, so, of course, he decides to bring it up.

“Dan, you alright over there? You haven’t been talking,” the interviewer asks, a smile on his face as he looks over at the sleep-deprived Dan.

Dan nods his head. “I’m fine,” he replies.

“He’s always been the quiet one,” PJ explains, patting Dan’s shoulder in a friendly manner. “You know how George Harrison in The Beatles was always called ‘the quiet Beatle’ or whatever it was? Dan’s the equivalent to that.”

Dan shakes his head. “I wouldn’t say that.”

The interviewer chuckles. “We’ll just conclude that you’re a man of few words,” he says. He clears his throat and sets his papers aside, a signal to Dan that the interview is almost over (thank God; the couch in the tour bus is calling his name). “Anyway, we all just want to let you know how awesome it is to hear your guys’ story. It’s just amazing to be able to see you’re living out the dream, right?”

Ryan nods his head and places a hand theatrically over his chest. “I’m beyond thankful and blessed to be able to say that I get to pursue my passion, you know? Not many other people have the ability to say that, but I’ve been so fortunate over these past few years, and…and it really means the world to me that I get to do this,” he says. “I get to make music for people, and I get to be that person that some people can turn to if they need to calm down or…if they’ve had a rough day and need some extra reinforcement. It’s really freaking amazing that I get to do be that someone for people, and I hope to continue doing this for the rest of my life.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself!” Luke says, laughing and leaning back in his seat.

“It’s such an honor to be able to call this my job,” Kyle adds. He shrugs his shoulders. “Honestly, I wouldn’t even call this a job. I’d just call it…I don’t know…an adventure.”

“Agreed,” Luke replies, nodding his head in agreement.

“It’s a new adventure every single day,” PJ says. “Getting to see new places, see new people, all this fun stuff…it’s really great. It’s really been a wonderful time, and…I honestly can’t wait to see where all of this takes us. These adventures that we’ve been going on have truly been some of the best experiences of my life, and I…I don’t know…I honestly can’t believe that this is what I get to do for the rest of my life. It’s pretty amazing.”

The interviewer turns to Dan, as if expecting some kind of response, though, in all honesty, Dan is not exactly sure how to answer. He didn’t plan on giving any kind of feedback to that question; he figured the interviewer would send one last promotion for the concert that evening and for viewers to buy the album, but apparently he wants Dan to answer one last time.

Dan clears his throat and leans close to his microphone. “Um…yeah, uh…it’s been an adventure,” he starts off before having to swallow a yawn. “Um…but…I’m quite young, you know? And I’m just…I’m just trying to figure out if this is what I want to…to…y’know… _do_  for the rest of my life, yeah? Like, it’s been quite a rollercoaster ride, but I don’t know if this is really what I’m…I don’t know…meant to do. I love music, it’s my passion, but…yeah. I don’t know. I love this group, and I love all the fans, but…you know, it’s just kind of…one of those things that you’ve got to think about.”

The interviewer nods his head, seeming shocked by the response. “Well, this is all about a time of exploration, right?” he asks. Dan merely nods his head, not wanting to speak anymore, as he can feel Ryan glaring at him. Dan chooses to ignore the nonverbal attack and instead looks around at the studio they’re in, as if he hadn’t already been in the room for twenty minutes or so already.

“What a profound statement, truly, though,” the interviewer concludes. He clears his throat and a big smile appears on his face again. “Alright, if you want to purchase The Tomorrow’s first album, you can go to…”

———————————————

“What the fuck was that?” Ryan shouts in Dan’s face.

After the radio interview, when they were getting ready to go to the venue of the concert that night, all the other guys basically gave Dan a bit of a silent treatment, almost as if they were disappointed in what Dan had said, or, the option that is most likely to be true, were influenced by Ryan.

All Dan got were a few sympathetic looks or looks of no emotion from everyone except for Ryan, who refused to even  _look_  at Dan. Literally, every time Dan turned his head in Ryan’s direction, the singer would find something else in the opposite direction to look at, like a child who is mad at their parent for not letting them get the toy they wanted.

However, the second they got into the dressing room, Ryan  _flipped out_.

Obviously.

The other guys turn their heads to the opposite direction, finding the whole situation to be rather awkward, obviously, since they’re not exactly sure if they’re meant to hear this. But, as it is even more awkward to leave the room, they decide to only look at each other or at the floor to make it seem like they’re not eavesdropping (though how can they not when Ryan is yelling so loudly?). PJ stays close to Dan, however, as to hopefully give his friend some sort of security and comfort. Dan will forever be thankful that he has such a loyal friend.

Dan furrows his eyebrows, shrugs his shoulders, and places his hands in his pockets. He tries to act nonchalant, but he’s sure Ryan can see right through that; he’s the kind of person that notices these kinds of things better than anyone else that Dan has ever met in his entire life, so really, it’s to no avail to try and hide. However, he tries it anyway.

“What do you mean?” he asks, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“The fucking interview,” Ryan exclaims, pointing out the door for extra emphasis. “What the fuck did you say back there?”

Dan bites the inside of his bottom lip as he clears his throat. “Um…what do you mean?” he questions again, though his voice cracks like it did when he was younger and his voice was beginning to change. “I didn’t say anything wrong.”

Ryan rolls his eyes, clearly annoyed. Dan is definitely not getting away with this. He’ll be surprised if he makes it through this alive, really. “You told them you don’t want to be in the band anymore, as if this is something you don’t want to do. You told that to an entire city, and knowing how big our fucking fan base is, it’s going to spread, and people are going to hear it, and that’s detrimental.”

“I didn’t say that,” Dan insists.

“That’s basically what words came out of your mouth, Dan,” Ryan replies, jabbing his finger into Dan’s chest. “That’s how everyone is going to interpret it because that’s what it fucking sounded like.”

Dan shakes his head, wanting to reason with the man, though he should know by now that he shouldn’t even bother. There’s no point. “That’s not what I-“

“Everyone is going to think that, oh, Dan doesn’t want to be in the band, yet he’s continuing to be a part of it. They’re all going to think negatively – ‘Dan’s just in it for the money’, ‘he only wants the fans’, or, hell, they might even say we’re  _making_ you stay in the band even though you don’t want to. That’s  _bad_  for our image, Dan, and we’re  _just_  getting started with this whole thing. We can’t risk something like that.” He groans and tugs at his long hair. “You can be so…” he doesn’t complete the sentence, but Dan’s mind is quick to come up with a few options.

“Ryan, I’m sorry,” Dan apologizes, taking note of how red the singer’s face is becoming; Dan really needs to be careful of what he says, because anything could push him over the edge. Then, Dan  _definitely_  would get murdered. “I really, truly, did not mean what I said in the way you’re interpreting it. I was tired, I wasn’t thinking straight, and I don’t think you’re taking it in the right wa-“

“Save it, Howell,” Ryan interrupts, shaking his head angrily, meaning he definitely doesn’t want to be a part of this conversation any longer. He stomps over to the door leading out to the hallway, grabbing his coat from the chair beside it. “I’m gonna talk to our manager. Hopefully he’ll know what to do.” He groans. “I’ve had enough of this bullshit.” He slams the door shut, the loud noise echoing throughout the room and ringing in their ears.

The four guys all stare at the door for a few moments, letting the seconds pass as Ryan gets further away from the room to begin speaking. They definitely want to make sure he’s not within earshot before they start up the conversation again.

“Fuck,” is all Kyle can say once enough time has gone by. He lets out a sound that is a mix between a cough and an exhale, crossing his arms over his chest. “That was fucking  _brutal_.”

Dan rolls his eyes and rubs his forehead with the palm of his hand. “Tell me about it,” he replies, his voice low.

PJ walks over to his friend and pats his shoulder. “He’s just been stressing out about the tour and promotion,” he explains. “He really wants us to be successful, and when minor mix-ups happen, they just…well, you know how it is. He just wants everything to go smoothly.”

“And so do I,” Dan says. He runs his hand through his hair, allowing his fingers to tangle with the curly locks. “But not if he’s fucking taking his anger…shit… _whatever_  out on me. I’m always his fucking target for his anger. He fucking hates me.”

PJ shakes his head and rubs Dan’s shoulder in a friendly manner. “Dan, he doesn’t hate you.”

“Well, he’s giving me mixed signals, then,” Dan says. “Every single time I do something wrong, he just has to point it out and treat it like it’s the most important thing in the world, like I screwed up fate or something. And, yeah, I probably could’ve left out what I said in the interview, but he could’ve let me give my side, you know? It’s not always about him, and he should fucking know that by now.”

“Chill, man,” Luke adds, putting his hands up in defense.

Dan rolls his eyes and faces away from the group, towards the door. However, his eyes remain at the floor and feet; he doesn’t have the energy to look up.

He can feel a headache inching on. He’s not in the mood to deal with literally anything anymore; this whole encounter with Ryan has definitely just dampened his entire mood. This always happens, and it makes Dan sick to his stomach even just thinking about it all.

And he knows that because of this whole situation, Ryan is never going to let it go. He’s going to hold a grudge until the ends of time, and he’ll never actually forgive Dan for his little mistake that they can easily recover from. Ryan is just making a big deal out of it for no reason except to probably just annoy Dan.

And Dan has had enough.

“I can’t fucking deal with this anymore,” he growls, pulling at his hair slightly.

PJ places a friendly hand on his shoulder. “Hey, calm down. We can work this out.”

Dan shakes his head and yanks himself away from PJ. “I’m sorry, but I literally cannot do this anymore. I’ve had enough of all this bullshit. I can’t deal with this fucking lifestyle anymore; all I want to do is go home and…I don’t know…be a normal person for fucking once. I don’t want to have to deal with press and fans and concerts and blah-blah-blah. I’ve had enough of this. This is not for me.” He pulls himself away from the group and heads to the door, his hand reaching for the knob. PJ’s eyes widen to the size of saucers, but Dan acts like he doesn’t notice it.

“I’m sorry, but I’m done. I need to leave.”

—————————————–

After grabbing his two suitcases and acoustic guitar from the tour bus, he found the nearest train station, bought a ticket from Brighton to Reading, and waited the seemingly endless half hour until the train arrived at the station.

He turned off his phone, not deeming it a good idea to communicate with anyone until he was away from the situation. He needed to calm down, get away from the issue, and then maybe he’d be able to ring PJ.

He’s sure they’re trying to call him right now; they had all ran after him once they realized what he was doing, but Dan had gotten a head start and was already in a taxi, on his way to the station that was going to take him back to his home in Wokingham.

The ride was nearly two hours, and he attempted to sleep for the entirety of it, as he was quite exhausted – both physically and mentally. However, he felt ill to his stomach, and his headache was immensely distracting, so he was unfortunately not able to sleep for more than five minutes at a time before finding some thought or noise or other distraction to wake him up.

The train left him and the other passengers off at Reading, which was only ten minutes away from little Wokingham. He hailed another taxi and had him drop him off at his little flat, which he has barely been in for the past month, what with promotions and now the tour.

He stayed in his home for a bit to have a proper shower, take a nap (that failed), and to just sit and think for a while, his suitcases beckoning him. He felt tempted to turn on his phone and talk to PJ and talk through this all with him, but he didn’t actually bring himself to do so.

He made himself a cup of instant coffee from a box that had been sitting up in a cabinet for Lord-knows-how-long, but he ended up feeling ill, where he couldn’t finish it. He couldn’t bring himself to order any food, either, as it would probably end up out of his mouth and into the toilet soon after he ate it.

He realized soon after getting settled onto the cheap-ass sofa in his lounge that if his bandmates were to guess where he would be right now, they’d all probably assume Dan did exactly as he had done: taken a train back home and stayed there. Meaning they could potentially be heading up here at any point to bring him back.

But Dan doesn’t want to go back, but the guys are going to definitely try and push him into returning…especially PJ. He’ll rant about how good Dan is and how much they need him, even though PJ is good enough at guitar to do all of Dan’s parts instead of just the rhythm. They could hire tour members, or hell, maybe Ryan could finally learn how complicated playing guitar can sometimes be, especially if you’re new. Maybe that’ll finally open up his eyes for once…

Either way, Dan ends up grabbing his suitcases and his guitar, along with his keys, and wallet. He locks up the door tightly, for when he inevitably gets homesick and decides to come back, and gets into his car.

He has no plan in mind of where to go; all he knows is he’s just going to drive and keep driving until he can’t anymore.

All he wants to do is get away from everything, escape this world he’s created for himself, and start anew.

In his mind, that seems like it’s going to be the simplest thing in the world. After all, it’s always easier said than done.

Either way, he’s willing to take this risk so he doesn’t have to deal with this anymore. All he wants is to become a normal person, live a normal life, and not have to worry about constantly having to make people happy when he can’t even make himself happy.

He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and starts the car, and within a matter of seconds, he’s off to who-knows-where; maybe it’ll just make him want to come home. Maybe he’ll be able to breathe properly there. Maybe he’ll be able to forget about what he’s just left behind.

Maybe it’ll be a place where he can just start over.

—————————————-

He ends up traveling north, as going south would probably just lead him back to Brighton. He passes through city after city, stopping occasionally to grab a coffee to keep him awake long enough to travel. He doesn’t make eye contact with any other drivers; it almost feels as if he’s a teenager sneaking out of the house for the first time.

It feels like he shouldn’t be doing this, but there’s nothing stopping him. He knows this is going to be healthy for him, to just get away from the hardships and struggle of being a famous musician, but he almost feels like he’s letting people down.

He shakes away the thought. He’s already gone this far, and he literally has no clue how far away from home he is anymore. Time and the kilometers have been flying by, but at the same time, it feels as though he’s just left home.

Eventually, at around two in the morning, in the middle of nowhere, a light on his dash brightens, signaling Dan’s attention.

 _LOW FUEL_.

His eyes drift over to the gauge, where, indeed, the red tick is down at E, which means he needs help quickly.

“Fuck,” Dan mutters before stifling a yawn. He adjusts his posture so he’s sitting up straighter, and he blinks his eyes a few times; when he is driving for a long time, as with most people, he gets in a bit of a “zone”, where he just spaces out and he just goes on autopilot. His hands steer the wheel however it needs to be steered, his feet press the pedals however much they need to pressed, and whatever else happens.

He peeks up ahead and sees that the road changes to a brick road, which is a sign to Dan that he is about to enter a town – probably a quaint town that he can hopefully stop in and rest for a bit. He slows down his speed a tad so he can look around.

He’s definitely up in the North; the hills around him are vast, and occasionally he spots a little house situated on one, a large fence surrounding it, meaning it’s probably a farm.

It’s quiet, no one else is out, and for some reason, that makes Dan feel at peace. He feels his shoulders relax from their immensely tensed state, and he lets out a deep breath, feeling the pain in his chest subside.

His car manages to take him into a town, and he is able to park the car in the vacant lot of some small building near the entrance of the town before his car fully runs out of fuel. Dan sits back in his seat and unbuckles the seatbelt to make himself a bit more comfortable.

He cracks his neck and shoulders a few times, as he had been driving for quite some time and his body is quite sore.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and decides that now he’ll be fine with turning it on. He waits for the device to power up, the bright light of the screen harsh on his tired eyes.

When it turns on, he is instantly greeted by around 50 texts, missed calls, and voice mails from PJ and the other guys. He feels a slight pain in his chest. He goes to his voicemails and pulls up the oldest one, from PJ earlier that night.

_“Dan, where the hell are you? We’re worried sick about you. Give me a call ASAP.”_

He bites his bottom lip as he listens to a few more.

_“Dan, seriously, where did you go? We’re going to have to postpone the concert at this rate…we don’t have anyone who can play your parts. We really need you. Call me.”_

_“You aren’t answering your phone, and we’re all starting to get really fucking worried. Call any of us…please.”_

_“We had to postpone the concert. Lots of fans are disappointed. Don’t worry; we didn’t tell them why. Where are you? Call me.”_

_“Dan, this isn’t a joke. We’re all really fucking worried. Even Ryan is-“_

Dan shuts off the phone instantly and throws it to the other seat. He rubs his eyes with the heels of his hand and shakes his head. He doesn’t want to hear that right now. He  _can’t_ hear that, otherwise he’ll turn around and head straight back.

But he can’t. Not yet, at least. For now, he just needs to get away from everything.

He groans and grabs his phone again, pulling up PJ’s text messages, all reading something like “where are you” and “call please”.

Dan rubs his face with his hand before sending a simple “I’m fine” text to him, just to let him know he doesn’t have to file a missing person report or anything. He turns off the phone again, as it’s close to dying.

He lays his head on the door of his car and somehow curls his more-than-six-foot tall self into the seat and closes his eyes, hoping to get some sleep, despite not being in the most comfortable of positions.

Everything is going to sort itself out. Dan is going to figure out what he’s going to do with his life, he’s going to calm himself down, he’s going to get himself sorted out, and everything is going to be fine.

Everything  _has_  to be fine.

——————————

 _Tap, tap, tap, tap_ …

Dan blinks open his eyes and groans as the bright light of the morning shines into his eyes. He closes his eyes tightly to try and relieve some of the pain.

_Tap, tap, tap, tap…_

Dan furrows his eyebrows and slowly opens up his eyes, as to hopefully not damage them even more. The tapping occurs again, and Dan turns his head towards the direction of the sound and  _holy crap there’s a dude standing at his passenger window._

He jumps slightly when he sees the guy there, his heart racing and his stomach dropping to his feet. His eyes widen and he places a hand over his chest, breathing deeply in an attempt to slow his heartrate down.

The guy looks to be about Dan’s age, perhaps a bit older, with brown hair and similarly colored eyes. He is wearing a thick coat – which instantly makes Dan realize just how cold it is – and has a big, toothy grin on his face as he waves to Dan.

Dan bites the inside of his cheek. He stares up at the guy, who makes a motion with his index finger for Dan to roll down the window. He looks over at the ignition, his key still in there from last night. Dan runs a hand over his face, breathes a deep breath, and turns the key, the car sputtering slightly as it tries to turn on. The clock on the radio turns on, revealing to Dan that it is eight in the morning, far earlier than he is used to getting up.

He’s normally the kind of person to sleep in until eleven or twelve, and he won’t go to bed until two or three. He doesn’t know exactly how it happened, where he ends up sleeping for that much, but it’s how he’s been since he was a teenager.

He stifles a yawn as he rolls down the window slightly on the passenger’s side; he’s careful to not roll it down too much, just in case this guy wants to murder him or something. You never know what to expect in these small towns, really.

“Can I help you?” Dan asks, his voice scratchy and showing how tired he is. He clears his throat and resists the urge to lift his hand up to his eye to rub it.

The man chuckles. “Well, I was going to ask that to you, funnily enough,” he answers, his voice clearly showing his Northern-ness. “After all, you are sleeping in a car in the lot of my book shop.”

Dan sits up a bit straighter, his face turning a pale shade of white. “Oh, oh, I’m really sorry,” he replies, feeling a bit of a pain in his stomach. God, he’s a fucking  _idiot_. “Uh…yeah, I’m really sorry; my car ran out of gas last night, and I didn’t know where else to go, since it was the middle of the night, and-“

“Dude, it’s all good; I’m not mad,” the guy replies, shaking his head and laughing. Dan’s shoulders slump and he bites his bottom lip. “Seriously. It’s all good. Well, I mean, not good for you, considering…y’know…you can’t exactly go anywhere, and the nearest gas station a bit far away.” He shrugs his shoulders. “I might have some fuel at my house, but I’ve got to open up shop.”

The man looks over Dan for a few seconds, and Dan seriously hopes he doesn’t recognize him from The Tomorrows. That’s the one thing he  _doesn’t_ need to deal with right now: a person who knows who he is.

Luckily, the man ends up not knowing who he is.

“I haven’t seen you around here before,” he says.

“Um…I’m from near Reading,” Dan explains. “I, uh…I was just…you know…needing to get away from the big city and all…life got…overwhelming, I guess you can say, and so…”

“Somehow you ended up here in little, tiny Rawtenstall when your gas ran out?” the man finishes, giving Dan an answer for where he ended up in. He’s pretty sure this town is near Manchester, but this little town seems far enough away from the rather busy city for him to feel at peace from the hustle and bustle. Dan shyly nods his head, and the guy laughs. “That’s quite the drive. Four hours, would it have been?”

“Somewhere around there, yeah,” Dan answers.

The man nods his head. “Well, I’m Chris Kendall, by the way; I should’ve probably mentioned that earlier,” he says.

“Dan Howell.”

“Pleasure,” Chris replies. He clears his throat. “Are you planning on staying here, then?”

“In Rawtenstall?” Dan asks for clarification. Chris nods his head. “I think I will, yeah.”

“Well,” Chris says, crossing his arms over his chest, “between you and me, the hotels around here are kinda terrible, so I wouldn’t exactly recommend staying there.” He looks over Dan’s face again. “How long are you planning on staying?”

Dan laughs nervously and shrugs his shoulders. “Honestly, I have no idea.”

Chris nods his head, stroking his chin in a pondering manner. “Longer than a week?”

“Probably.”

“Like, approximately how much longer?” Chris asks.

“A few weeks?” Dan suggests. “I’m really not sure.”

Chris nods his head a few times again. “And you’re not a serial killer, are you?”

Dan furrows his eyebrows, taken aback by his random question. “Um…no,” he replies.

“You’re one-hundred percent sure?”

“…yes.”

Chris then leaves the front window and goes to the backdoor of Dan’s car, beginning to yank on the handle to attempt to open the door, despite it being locked.

“What are you doing?” Dan asks curiously, staring confusedly at the sight, unsure of what to do.

“Trying to open the door,” Chris answers simply, still pulling at the door handle.

“…why?”

“So I can get in and help you grab your stuff.”

“…why?” Dan asks again.

Chris looks up at Dan with a big smile on his face. “You’re going to stay at my place while you’re staying in town!” he exclaims merrily.

Dan’s eyes widen; he had honestly not been expecting Chris to offer to let him stay in his house. Honestly, Dan was thinking he was just going to be staying in his car for the entirety of his time in Rawtenstall. He thought he was going to have to get used to sleeping in his car and having no internet.

He can’t help but grin at the kindness Chris was showing him. “Really?” he asks.

“Duh!” Chris says, as if it’s the simplest thing in the world to understand. “Can’t have you sleeping in your car for your stay! Plus, I’m a nice person.”

Dan chuckles. “Let me guess: you’re the nicest person you know?” he asks.

“Exactly!” Chris exclaims. He smiles at him. “You already get me.” He clears his throat and pauses for a few seconds, as if pondering his word choice for what he is going to say next. “Now…I know we literally just established how nice and wonderful of a person I am, but I have a bit of a proposition if you actually want to stay at my place.”

“Yeah?” Dan asks.

He clears his throat again. “Well, one of my employees just left because she was moving to Manchester, so I’m a bit in need of help, since it’s just me and Evan…so…if you wouldn’t mind…helping out in the shop while you’re here? It’s not that hard; I’ll just have you stock shelves and help out customers and all that jazz. Your payment would be being able to stay at my house and eat my food and whatever. You’ll get some money of course, but most of it-“

“Chris,” Dan interrupts, ending his rambling. Chris stops, closing his mouth shut as Dan smiles up at him. “I’m totally fine with that. I’d be happy to help out.”

Chris lets out a deep breath and wipes the nonexistent sweat from his forehead. “Good. Amazing,” he says. “I was worried you were going to say no. Then I wouldn’t know what to do.” He runs a hand through his hair. “We’ll get you started tomorrow, then. I’m sure you’re quite tired, so…yeah, you can just kinda hang out around the store or stay in the back room if you’d like. We’ll get your training done tomorrow.”

“Sweet,” Dan says. “Thank you so much.” He reaches over presses the unlock button, allowing Chris to get inside and grab one of Dan’s suitcases. Dan also gets out of the car, taking his key out of the ignition after rolling back up the window, and he grabs his other suitcase and guitar case.

“You play?” Chris asks, gesturing to the guitar case. Now Dan knows that Chris  _definitely_  doesn’t know who he is, which just makes Dan feel even more excited about being here. This is exactly what he needed, honestly.

Dan nods his head as he closes the door. He locks the door with his key fob, and then Chris gestures to the front door of the shop, which is just a few feet away from them. “Yeah,” he says humbly. “Been playing since I was ten.”

“You any good?”

Dan shrugs his shoulders. “Yeah, I guess,” he replies.

Chris frowns. “Oh, I’m sure you’re great. Stop being so humble,” he says. “If you’re good, come out and freaking say it!”

Dan laughs; Chris is definitely one of those people who is not afraid to speak his mind. Dan appreciates that. “Okay, yeah, I’d say I’m pretty good,” he replies.

“There; you’re getting it,” he says once they reach the front door. He sets down Dan’s suitcase on the step and pulls out his keys from his pocket, fitting one of them into the keyhole. “There’s, like, open-mic kinda things down at Live Today Café every Friday where people come and perform. Dodie comes with her uke and sings, sometimes with her little sister, and there’s a few other people that sing or play piano.” He looks up at Dan and shrugs his shoulders once the door is unlocked. “It’d be cool if you performed; you know, get yourself out there or whatever.”

Dan shakes his head. “I think I’m fine with not performing,” he replies as he steps into the shop, the distinct smell of lavender wafting throughout the room, making him feel comforted and calm.

The shop is fairly small; the wooden floorboards are covered in different rugs, there are numerous bookshelves labeled with different genres. The windows are big, but covered with nice, homely curtains. Plants sit on the windowsills, and chairs with little tables in between them are scattered around, inviting people to sit at them and read a good book.

Chris rolls his eyes. “There you go again, being modest,” he says, closing the door behind him. He flips the sign in the front window to say “OPEN” instead of “CLOSED”, and then he leads Dan to the back of the shop, to a green door. “Okay, so this is the break room, so I’ll set your stuff in here until it’s time to go home.”

He leads Dan inside the room; there’s only a couch, a desk, and a mini fridge, so not as wonderfully decorated as the main shop.

They set Dan’s luggage and guitar near the couch. Chris lets out a long sigh and places his hands on his hips. “Alright, so I have to get to work before customers start coming in, so…feel free to hang out in here, read a book or two, or just…y’know…whatever. We close shop at six, so that’s when we’ll head back to my place. Tomorrow we’ll bring fuel for your car, so…yeah. You good with this?”

Dan nods his head as he takes his seat on the couch. “Thank you,” he says.

Chris smiles proudly. “Not a problem! Rest up and all that fun stuff. I’ll probably come back in here at around noon or so to have my lunch break.” He gives a two finger wave as he begins to walk out of the room.

Once Chris has left the room for around thirty seconds or so, Dan pulls out his phone from his pocket. He turns it on, and it luckily still has a bit of battery left. He sees more texts from mostly PJ, asking him where he is and what he’s doing.

Dan decides to call him. He pulls up his number from the contacts and calls it, then placing the phone up to his ear. The phone rings only twice before it gets picked up.

“Where the hell have you been?” is what PJ yells into the phone as a greeting when he picks it up.

“Hello to you, too,” Dan replies, attempting to use humor to make the situation a bit lighter and less…well, dramatic, as PJ seems to be making it. He always tends to do this when something isn’t particularly going right.

“Dan, this isn’t funny. All of us are freaking out because you up and left us for who-knows-where. We didn’t know what happened to you.”

Dan sighs and places a hand up in defense, even though PJ can’t see him. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes. He runs his hand through his curly hair. “I just…I just had to get away. Everything was really overwhelming, and if I stayed, I would’ve just continued to make everyone even more mad-”

“We weren’t mad,” PJ says, but Dan continues speaking, as if he hadn’t heard PJ, though he actually had.

“-and I just…I just had to leave. I couldn’t stay there anymore. You know how I get.”

PJ sighs and Dan can almost hear him nodding his head. “I know, but… _you_ know how Ryan gets,” he points out. “He gets pissed when he has a lot going on, and with the tour and the album and all this other stuff, he’s just been exceptionally cranky, and-”

“And he decides to take it out on me,” Dan finishes. He groans and closes his eyes. “He always takes it out on me. That’s the problem. Anytime he’s angry, he doesn’t take it out on you or the other guys. It always has to be me, and I’ve had enough of it. I’ve had enough of it for a long time, actually.”

“I know you have,” PJ replies. PJ is the only one that Dan has ever really talked to about his issues with Ryan, but every time, PJ has some kind of excuse for as to why Ryan acts the way he does. Dan knows it’s an attempt to make Dan feel better, but really, in all actuality, it just makes him feel worse about the whole situation.

“I just can’t deal with it anymore,” Dan continues, bringing his long legs up onto the couch with him. He wraps an arm around them. “Um…has…has Ryan said anything about me leaving?”

“Yeah,” PJ answers. “He’s…he’s pretty mad that you left, and he’s trying to work out how we’re going to perform without you. We’re thinking of hiring someone…just to, like, play your parts.”

“Couldn’t you do it?”

“I already know the rhythm parts well enough, so there’s no point,” PJ replies, sounding agitated, which is like a stab in the heart to Dan. This is one of the things that really makes him feel bad about his decision to leave abruptly.

“I’m really sorry,” Dan says.

“It’s fine,” PJ replies. He clears his throat, and Dan can imagine he’s running a hand through his hair right now. It’s just a habit that he’s never been able to get rid of, and it’s something that Dan has admitted to starting to do as well because of him. “Um…so…where’d you go? I mean, I doubt you’re home.”

“I did go home at first,” Dan answers, stretching out his long legs across the cushions of the couch, trying to get comfortable. “But then I knew you guys were probably going to head there when you were going to Reading, so I just took my car and just drove through almost the entire night, and now I’m near Manchester.”

“Up in the North, huh?” PJ asks with a chuckle. “Interesting choice.”

Dan laughs softly. “Yeah, uh…I’m in this little town…Rawtenstall, I think it’s called? Whatever. Anyway, this guy found me sleeping in my car, and he’s letting me stay at his place while I’m staying here.” He cracks his neck, feeling it start to get uncomfortable. “As long as I work in his shop, though.”

“Wait, how long are you planning on staying there?” PJ asks, confused.

“A couple weeks, maybe. Why?” Dan replies, oblivious.

“You’re not only staying for, like, a few days?”

Dan shakes his head. “No, why?”

“You’re expecting us to perform for a few weeks without you?” PJ answers, once again beginning to sound agitated. Dan bites his bottom lip as he listens to his best friend. “Dan, you can’t do that to us! We rely on you! You’re a member of this group, and it’s not the same if we don’t perform without you. A few concerts, yeah, that’s fine, but if you’re planning on being gone for, say, a month, then that’s detrimental to us. The fans will be disappointed, and it just…it won’t be the same.

"I know you and Ryan don’t get along,” PJ continues, “but that’s something we can work through, honestly. You just have to be willing to fix that.”

“I am,” Dan replies.

“Then why did you run away?” PJ asks.

“To get away,” Dan answers. He sighs and rubs his forehead with his hand. “Peej, you know how I’ve been this past few years; I haven’t been enjoying this whole thing as much as I used to. I hate performing nearly every night, I hate how claustrophobic all the concerts are, I hate all the intense judgment from everyone, I hate the interviews, I hate traveling for so much at once, and…I don’t know, I just don’t feel right when I’m there. It’s not just because of Ryan; it’s basically the whole thing. It’s hard for me to really, really, truly want to do this like I used to. I love music, I really do, but I really think…I really think it was a bad decision for me to pursue this. It’s…it’s not been good for me. I just need some time to sort things out…like if I truly want to continue doing this, or if I need to quit and start over. I don’t know what I want yet, and that’s why I left. I need to figure out my life before I come back, whether to keep performing or to quit.”

PJ lets out a long sigh as he spends a few minutes in silence contemplating what Dan has said. Dan has to check to make sure he’s still on the phone a few times, but PJ eventually begins speaking to him again.

“Alright,” is all he says.

Dan furrows his eyebrows. “‘Alright’?” he repeats.

“Alright,” PJ says again. “If that’s what you think you need to do, that’s fine.” He sighs. “Will you keep me in the loop, though? Just so I know you’re still alive and that the guy you’re staying with isn’t going to murder you?”

Dan laughs and nods his head. “Yeah,” he replies. “If the guy does end up being, like, an axe-murderer or something, please say a eulogy at my funeral.”

“Gladly,” PJ says, laughing. “Though I’m pretty sure it’ll just be an 'I told you so’ kinda thing. I’ll try and be nice, though.”

Dan rolls his eyes. “That’s a fucking lie.”

Dan can almost hear him shrugging his shoulders.

“Will you let me know any band stuff? You know…how finding a replacement works out, all that stuff. If Ryan says anything. You know.”

“I’ll keep you posted,” PJ replies. He lets out a long breath before he speaks again. “Well, I should probably get going. I think we’re having a meeting with the manager. I’m assuming you don’t want me to tell them where you are?”

“I’d rather you didn’t,” Dan replies. “You can tell them that I’m fine and that we talked, but other than that, could you…you know…not tell?”

“I’ll try my best.” He clears his throat. “I’ll talk to you later, then. Stay safe.”

“I will. Thanks, Peej.”

“Yep.”

——————————————

“You’re really fast at alphabetizing those books, man,” Chris says as he watches Dan rearrange books on the shelf in the fantasy section in All Booked Up, Chris’s bookstore.  

It has been a total of four days since Dan arrived in Rawtenstall, and frankly, things have been going quite smoothly for him, and he’s felt quite at peace. He spent his first day napping, his second day in training at the shop with Evan, Chris’s only other employee, and now his third and fourth days working.

Working at the shop is not as stressful as Dan thought it was going to be. His job at a DIY store back in Wokingham when he was sixteen made him want to claw his eyes out, but this job is literally the exact opposite. It’s relaxing in a way; alphabetizing books on the shelves, listening to customer’s recommendations for books, and listening to the soft music playing over the speakers has been quite relaxing.

And, of course, he gets to stay in Chris’s home because of it, which Dan is completely and utterly thankful for, as he didn’t think he would’ve been able to last staying in his car for the entirety of his stay here.

Chris’s home was a decent-sized flat towards the middle of town. It was a duplex, but it still only had one bedroom, so Dan has to take the couch in the lounge, but he’s more than okay with that if it means he’s not sleeping in his car or in one of the dodgy hotels nearby. At least he has shelter, food, water, and some activity to pass the time with.

He’s really liking being here so far.

But, of course, as promised, he and PJ have been texting to keep each other updated on what’s going on. The band is planning on hiring someone to fill in for Dan, and in the meantime, apparently Ryan  _is_ going to try to learn guitar so he can play some of the easier songs, which something Dan had not expected to happen yet…or at  _all_ , for that matter.

Dan still has no cue when or if he’s going to go back to them. He’s mostly trying to get used to being here in Rawtenstall, get settled in, and then he’ll begin to resolve his mental state and decide what he wants to do with his life.

Sometimes he wonders if he should even have to be dealing with something like this right now; he’s only twenty-two years old, for Christ’s sake. He’s so young; he shouldn’t have to be dealing with this mental battle that seems quite similar to a midlife crisis.

But it’s what’s happened to him, and he just needs to sort this whole thing out, get his life back on track, and then everything will make sense again…hopefully.

“Thanks,” Dan says, bending down to grab a book from the box at his feet. A new shipment of books came in that morning, so Chris is having him stock the shelves. “It’s therapeutic in a way.”

“Isn’t it?” Chris asks, exhaling deeply through his nose, and then letting it out through his mouth. “Quite relaxing.” He cracks his knuckles and opens his mouth to say more, but is interrupted by the tinkling of the bell above the door. Chris excuses himself and leaves the aisle to see who is at the door. Dan continues his work, but he definitely keeps one ear open to the conversation.

One thing Dan has learned from working in this shop for three days is that a lot of the people that come in are regulars that are friends with Chris. Dan learns a lot about the town and about Chris from the people that come into the shop.

“The plants in the front window are looking great!” an unfamiliar voice says from the front of the shop. Dan notes how low and attractive the voice sounds; he never thought of someone’s speaking voice being attractive, but for whatever reason, this guy’s voice enamors Dan. “I’m quite proud, Chris.”

“Phil!” he exclaims merrily. Dan hadn’t heard a guy called Phil coming into the shop before, so he quickly becomes intrigued. “How are you? How’s the shop running?”

“I’m good, thank you,” Phil replies. “The shop’s doing well. We just did the flowers for Marzia’s birthday party, which was quite fun.” Dan guesses Phil runs a flower shop of some kind, which he thinks is the most adorable thing ever.

“Any more projects coming up?” Chris asks curiously.

“Not yet,” Phil answers. Dan can almost hear him shrugging his shoulders.

Dan hears Chris pat Phil on the shoulder. “Well, you’re bound to get some soon,” he says. “Hey, I just got a new employee, and I’m sure he’d love to meet you.”

Dan’s heartrate spikes up for some reason; he’d been introduced to a fair amount of people in Rawtenstall in the past four days, so he shouldn’t be nervous. Yet, his palms are sweating and he feels the need to run his hands obnoxiously through his hair, but he attempts to maintain his composure by slowing down his breathing and thinking about calm thoughts – the beach, a dog, Christmas, et cetera.

“A new employee?” Phil asks, his voice sounding confused.

“Mmm-hmm!” Chris answers, probably nodding his head rapidly. “Just hired him a few days ago. He needed a place to stay, so I said he could stay at my place as long as he worked here to help me out. It was perfect, considering, you know, Hannah just left, and I needed help, and he needed a place to stay…”

“Is he not from around here?”

“Nope. From down near Reading. He’s going to be staying here for a bit, however.”

“Got it,” Phil replies. “I’d love to meet him.”

There Dan’s heart goes again – the beats increasing and his face probably turning a bright pink. He bites the inside of his bottom lip as he hears the footsteps of the two approach where he is currently standing. He tries to make himself look busy by placing another book onto the shelf, not checking to see if it’s actually in the correct place.

“Dan!” Chris calls, approaching Dan. He turns his head slightly to see Chris and a very, very,  _very_ attractive man behind him.

He’s tall; taller than Chris is, but probably around the same height as Dan. His skin is pale, almost translucent, but little freckles dot around his arms. His hair is black, cut into an emo-fringe-like look; very similar to how Dan’s looks when his is straightened. He is wearing thick black glasses, a blue plaid button up, black skinny jeans, converse, and a bright smile on his face.

His eyes, however, are the thing that intrigue Dan the most.

They’re blue, but also green and yellow at the same time. They stand out amazingly against his pale skin and dark hair; they’re bright, luminescent, and completely and utterly beautiful. Dan has to blink rapidly a few times to stop himself from staring at them for too long.

“I would like you to meet one of my good friends, Phil,” Chris continues, gesturing to him.

Phil waves cheerfully at Dan, and he gives a nervous smile back – not exactly what he intended to do.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Phil greets, holding out his hand for Dan to shake.

Dan takes his hand firmly and shakes it twice. “It’s nice to meet you, too,” he replies, his voice shaking slightly. He clears his throat, hoping to pass it off as a frog in his throat or something similar to that. “I’m Dan.”

“I’ll leave you two to get acquainted,” Chris says, patting Dan’s shoulder once before scampering off to help any other customers that come in.

Phil smiles at Chris as he walks off, and then focuses his attention back to Dan. He still has that adorable beam on his face, which calms Dan down slightly. He doesn’t know why, but his heart is racing still, even after being introduced to him. Shouldn’t it have slowed down by now? Is he okay? Is he going to have a heart attack?

Dear God, that’d just be the icing on the cake for this, wouldn’t it?

“How are you, Dan?” Phil asks, placing his hands in his pockets. Dan notices how awkwardly he puts them in; he turns his arm so the palms of his hands are facing out, and he only sticks his middle and ring fingers in the pocket. Quite interesting, but he won’t question Phil about it just yet.

“I’m…I’m good, how are you?” Dan replies courteously, leaning against the shelf with his arms behind his back.

“I’m well, thank you,” Phil says. “I haven’t seen you around town yet. You must be quite new, huh?”

Dan nods his head. “ _Very_ ,” he replies. “I just got here, like, four days ago or something like that.”

“And Chris already has you working,” Phil responds with a chuckle. “Of course he’d do something like that. But it’s quite nice of him to let you stay at his house.”

“Yeah, I was really surprised,” Dan says earnestly. “But he offered and said that I could work in his shop as a way to pay him back for it, so…I thought I might as well.” He shrugs his shoulders. “I haven’t really gotten a chance to explore the town that much, though.”

Phil laughs lightly and shakes his head. “Rawtenstall is literally, like, the smallest little town you will ever see in your entire life. There’s really not that much here except for little home businesses and lots of really Northern people.” He pauses and cocks his head to the side as he looks up at the ceiling. “And sheep. There’s also a lot of sheep.”

Dan laughs. “I noticed that, yeah,” he says, feeling the tension in his shoulders and chest subside.

Phil shrugs his shoulders. “Yeah, there’s really not that much to explore around here, but it’s home, I guess. I was born and raised here, so everything’s just kind of…you know…not that exciting anymore. But it’s still home.”

“This whole place does seem really homely and welcoming,” Dan replies. “I lived near Reading my entire life, so there was always people around, traveling to it through my town. I’d go to Reading nearly every weekend when I wasn’t working, so I just kind of got used to how busy and bustling it was, y’know? Maybe that’s why being here intrigued me so much.”

“How’d you find out about here, then?” Phil asks curiously. “If you don’t mind me asking. Normally people just come here if they can’t find their way to Manchester. The second they get directions, they’re out of here. Not that many people stay for long.”

Dan laughs and shakes his head. “Well, I wasn’t looking for Manchester,” he replies. He pauses for a few seconds, trying to come up with some explanation that doesn’t mention anything about The Tomorrows. From what he can tell, Phil has no idea who he is, which is really helpful to him, but also unhelpful because now he has to come up with some kind of excuse for why he’s here and how he ended up here.

“Um…well, I just did kind of need to get away from the big city, you know?” Dan says, shrugging his shoulders. This is the same lame excuse that he gave Chris his first morning in Rawtenstall. “And…so…I just got in my car, packed some of my stuff, and just drove until I ended up running out of gas right outside Chris’s shop, where he found me.”

Phil chuckles and smiles. “Quite the interesting story,” he says. “And then he found you and had you work here in exchange for shelter?”

“Basically, yeah,” Dan replies. “I was trained the next day, and now it’s my second-technically-third day on the job.”

“Must be why I haven’t seen you out-and-about. Unless you’re not the socializing type,” Phil says in an almost flirtatious manner, which makes Dan’s now-calm-heartrate shoot up again.

“Both, really,” Dan answers honestly. “I’m quite socially awkward, mostly, though.”

“Same,” Phil says, nodding his head. “I’m really bad at carrying on a conversation.”

Dan shrugs his shoulders and grins shyly up at Phil. “Well…I think you’re doing a really great job right now,” he says, not being able to help himself. He’s even shocked at his own words that came out of his mouth.

Phil’s eyes flick over Dan’s face for a few seconds, and Dan feels his cheeks begin to turn an even deeper shade of pink. He prays to any divine being that exists that he doesn’t notice it. He’s only been talking to him for a few minutes, and he’s already being embarrassing.

“I find it easy to talk to you,” he says softly after a few moments of comfortable silence. He gestures with his head to the chairs situated at the end of the aisle way. “Want to procrastinate from your work for a bit?”

Dan doesn’t even have to hesitate to say yes.

——————————————

They talk for the next forty-five minutes (it could’ve gone on longer if Phil hadn’t gotten a call from his employees, Louise and Dodie, asking him when he was going to come in) about random things, getting to know each other.

Dan learns that Phil is four years older than him, when to the University of York to study botany and business, and he owns The Flower Pot, a flower shop just a few blocks down from All Booked Up. He opened it himself, and it is a very small business, just like the bookshop.

He also learned that Phil has known Chris for years, from when Chris moved to Rawtenstall when they were in secondary school, and they both opened up their shops around the same time. They frequently stop by each other’s shops in the morning before people start coming to and from the stores – Chris to see if Phil needs any new botany books shipped into the shop, and Phil to check on the progress of the plants in Chris’s shop.

Phil has an older brother, who is living in London with his long-time girlfriend, and his parents recently moved closer to Manchester. He makes frequent trips to Manchester to visit his parents, as he is quite family oriented.

Phil also has a lot of things in common with Dan, including the fact that their favorite band is Muse.

“On the count of three, name your favorite Muse album,” Phil said once they had both found out their mutual love for the band. “Three…two…one…”

“… _Origin of Symmetry_!” they both exclaimed at the same time. They spent the next fifteen minutes gushing about Matthew Bellamy’s angelic vocals and how “sacrilegious” it was that multiple Muse songs were used in the  _Twilight_  franchise films.

Dan had to restrain himself from saying “oh, I tried to get some of my old bandmates to listen to Muse, but none of them ever did”. He was getting along fine with Phil (actually, more than “fine” – he was getting along quite  _effortlessly_ ), but that doesn’t mean he was going to share anything about The Tomorrows with him. After all, he had just met the guy.

He did feel a slight pain in his chest from thinking about that, however, but he chose to ignore it. It was probably just his brain messing with him.

Anyway, they found out that they’re both equally major nerds who love video games, anime, films, et cetera. They agreed on a lot of those things, such as how  _Mario Kart 8_  is the best out of all of them and how nothing could beat the magnificence that is  _Kill Bill_.

However, as mentioned previously, all good things have to come to an end, and that unfortunately happened when Phil received a phone call from Louise and Dodie, asking him to come into work.

“I’m really sorry; I shouldn’t have kept you away from work,” Dan said as Phil got out of his seat.

Phil shook his head and grinned down at him. “I had a lot of fun,” he replied. “And plus: I can’t get fired. I’m my own boss.” He gave a proud look. Then, he holds out his hand. “Can I see your phone for, like, two seconds?”

Dan furrowed his eyebrows but still nodded his head, not sure what else to do. He slipped his phone out of his pocket, unlocked it, and handed it to the older boy. Phil graciously took it and quickly began typing something. After around two seconds, he gave the phone back to Dan. He then smiled and turned around on his heel and began to walk off.

“Be sure to text me so that I have your number!” he called over his shoulder.

Confused, Dan looked back down at his phone.

There, a new contact was added: “Phil Lester” with a cactus emoji beside it.

Dan couldn’t help but smile like a complete idiot.

He ended up not being able to hide his excited nature while he continued his work for the day. Chris noticed Dan’s elatedness and questioned him about it during their lunchbreak.

Dan shrugged his shoulders. “Just happy.”

Christ definitely didn’t believe that at all.

“You like him, don’t you?” he asked with a sly smile.

“Who?” Dan asked, faking a confused look.

Once again, Chris definitely didn’t believe that at all.

“Don’t play dumb. You’re already crushing on Mr. Phil Lester, aren’t you?” he asked. “After only speaking to him for, what, an hour or so?”

Dan just shrugged his shoulders. “I wouldn’t say it’s a crush. I would just say I’m happy I got to talk with him.”

Chris rolled his eyes. “Yep, you’re definitely crushing already. The eyes tell it all.”

“Shall I wear a blindfold, then?” Dan asked jokingly, attempting to hold back a laugh.

“Number one: you basically admitted it right then, and number two: be my guest. Just don’t do anything kinky while I’m around.”

“I didn’t admit it,” Dan replied, completely ignoring the second comment.

“Lies. All lies.”

“Just eat your lunch.”

—————————————–

“You sound happy,” PJ says when he calls Dan that evening. They hadn’t actually called since the day Dan got to Rawtenstall, but Dan decided to give him a call and clue him in on how things have been going.

Dan was also just looking for a way to distract him from texting Phil too soon. After all, the two had literally just met a few hours ago, and Dan doesn’t want to seem too needy or even  _desperate,_ so he’s trying to come up with some way to avoid being awkward and whatever.

Dan is seated on the couch in Chris’s house, his phone on speaker, and his guitar in his lap as he tunes it. He’s home alone, as Chris is out on a quick Tesco’s run, so Dan decided to take the opportunity of being home alone to play his guitar today.

He’s given the tips of his fingers a few days to rest from playing, and he doesn’t want to leave his instrument un-played for too long. As he has said earlier – music is still his passion, even if he’s not sure if he wants to continue to it as a career.

“Do I?” Dan asks as he plucks the B string. He listens carefully to the note, and then adjusts the tuning peg, tuning it down.

“You do,” PJ replies. “It’s kind of scary, actually. I don’t think I’ve heard you be this happy in quite some time, if I’m being honest.”

Dan shrugs his shoulders as he plucks the B string again. He decides it sounds better, so he moves on to the D string. “Well, you know… _certain circumstances_  caused that to happen, and I think you know enough for me to not need to elaborate.”

“No need.” PJ pauses for a few seconds before speaking again. “So…what’s brought on this happiness?”

Dan leans back on the couch and tunes the D string of his guitar, adjusting it so it is sharper than it had been previously. “I don’t know; I’ve just been in a good mood,” he answers. “Chris and I are getting along fine, the job is pretty damn easy, and…yeah, it’s just been going really well.”

“Have people recognized you from the band?”

“Surprisingly no,” Dan answers, realizing that fact just now. Sure, he noticed that both Chris and Phil failed to know who he is, but Dan didn’t even think about how no one else that has come into the bookshop recognized him from The Tomorrows. The people might know  _of_  the band, but perhaps not to the extent of being able to even name off the members. “I’m sure there’s bound to be, like, one teenage girl who found us through Ryan that lives here. Don’t know if that means I’ll be recognized, but it still counts, I guess.”

“What’ll you do if that one teenage girl comes to the shop or whatever?”

“I mean, I guess I would try to pass it off like it isn’t me or something. Like, that I’m not…myself, I guess? Or if she insists, maybe just be really vague with the whole thing.”

“Got it,” PJ answers. “Though, I’m sure she would probably already have some kind of idea of what’s going on.”

Dan furrows his eyebrows and pulls the blanket at his feet up to his chest, feeling the need to keep himself warm and protected. “What do you mean?” he asks, his question drawn-out and concerned.

“Wait, you haven’t seen?”

Dan shakes his head as he sets his guitar aside, leaning it against the couch. “No…?”

“Oh,” PJ says simply. He pauses for around ten seconds before speaking again. “Well, there’s articles out about how you left the band.”

“’Left’?” Dan asks, questioning the word choice.

Dan can almost hear his friend nods his head. “Yeah; our manager kinda shared it all with the press,” he replies. Dan opens his mouth to say something, but PJ is quick to speak before him. “And, I mean, I understand why. Obviously people needed to know why we postponed concerts and why you haven’t been active on social media, so…y’know? It kind of makes sense.”

“But what do the articles say?” Dan asks.

“People are speculating that you’ve completely left the band,” PJ answers honestly. “That you’ve gone off and aren’t going to come back to the band at all. They’re trying to guess why and all that stuff, and they’re wondering if it’s going to be a four-member band or if we’re getting someone new.”

“So they don’t know a lot about the situation?”

“I haven’t told anyone about what’s going on with you,” PJ says reassuringly. “No one knows anything from what I understand.”

Dan lets out a little breath of relief, feeling a pain in his chest subside. “Good,” he replies.

The two talk for a little bit longer before PJ has to hang up so he can get his dinner for the evening. They say their goodbyes, and then they hang up.

Afterwards, while sitting in the quiet, empty flat, Dan pulls up an article from Google about his whole situation. He clicks on one titled “Dan Howell of The Tomorrows Leaves Music Industry For Good?”. Dan rolls his eyes at how dramatic it is. He quietly reads aloud to himself:

_Has The Tomorrows lost a member of their band so soon after the release of their first album?_

_Just recently, it was confirmed that the reason for the band’s decision to postpone concert dates was because lead guitarist Dan Howell, 22, has left the up-and-coming alternative group, The Tomorrows._

_No reasons for his departure have been disclosed, but it can be speculated that his response to a question he was asked on a Brighton radio show may have the answers._

_On the “Brighton-Early” morning radio show, Dan said this when asked how he felt about the start of this brand-new experience with going on tour and releasing an album:_

_“…it’s been quite an adventure, but…I’m quite young… I’m just trying to figure out if this is what I want to do for the rest of my life. Like, it’s been quite a rollercoaster ride, but I don’t know if this is really what I’m meant to do.”_

_Dan Howell has not been active on social media since his supposed departure, so it can be assumed that he will most likely not be giving any answers about this situation anytime soon._

_However, Ryan Jacobs, the virtuosic lead singer of the group, recently tweeted out a statement regarding the situation, saying the “show will go on” and that new concert dates will be released in the coming days._

Dan closes out of the article, not wanting to read any more of it. He sets his phone aside and lets out a deep breath, trying to collect his thoughts.

He definitely should’ve seen that coming. He might not be the most famous person in the world, but there are still people who monitor him for their fans and what-have-you.

He hopes this whole thing just blows away and that he’ll be able to move on and live a normal life.

To calm himself down, he picks up his guitar again and begins to strum some chords to songs he’s never gotten the chance to finish, or songs that Ryan always rejected. That never ceases to make him feel better.

——————————–

That night, Dan did not sleep as much as he wanted to. He lied on the couch with his eyes up at the ceiling and his hands folded neatly on his stomach, and he just stared at the same spot for what felt like hours. His shoulders tensed, his breathing was fast and shaky instead of slow and steady, and his mind raced with thoughts so rapid that his mind could not comprehend.

This happens to him often, especially since the recording of their album started once they got signed. Dan won’t be able to sleep because the thoughts in his mind are just too much to bear. He’ll lay awake until the ungodly hours of the night until he inevitably passes out.

That morning, he woke up with bloodshot eyes, a crick in his neck, constant yawning, and a bad attitude.

So, before he went into work at All Booked Up, he decided to make a quick stop at the café that Chris had told him about earlier. Normally he would just have one of the instant coffees at Chris’s flat, but Dan felt like he deserved a caramel macchiato after his sleepless night last night. Or perhaps for surviving a week in a completely new town without getting noticed. Or maybe he had less sugar yesterday than normal. Surely he would’ve done something to deserve this. That’s what he keeps telling himself, at least.

Dan sluggishly walks into the small building, his hands in his pockets and trying hard not to appear to be furious or annoyed, though he knows that’s definitely what he looks like currently.

He stands third in line, his face to the floor, trying to entertain himself by listening to the soft sound of The Beatles music playing over the speakers, while also counting the number of green tiles scattered among the vast number of white ones.        

He hums along to the familiar tune of “Here Comes the Sun”, the soothing and calming sounds of George Harrison’s fingerpicking guitar solo going through his ears. Dan smiles to himself as he pretends to play the part, making sure to keep his hand close to himself so he doesn’t do it too flamboyantly, to the point where people give him weird looks.                                                                  

“You know,” a familiar voice says from behind Dan, causing him to turn around, smiling widely when he sees that Phil is in the line behind him, “John Lennon didn’t appear on this track because he was recovering from a car accident, so it was just Paul, Ringo, and George.”

Dan smiles and gestures with his head for Phil to join him in line. “You a fan of The Beatles?” he asks.

“I mean, I’m British, so I have somewhat of an obligation to enjoy them – which I do – but I only know that because last night I might’ve gone into a Wikipedia Odyssey looking up facts about bugs, which then led me to The Beatles,” Phil explains.

Dan laughs, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “I’m sure I can guess how that happened,” he replies. “Though the best Wikipedia Odysseys are when you select ‘random article’ and you just see where that takes you.”

Phil grins widely. “I’m glad I’m not the only one who looks at Wikipedia articles late at night!” he exclaims.

“Dude, those are the best nights,” Dan replies as they move up in line. “The ones where you stay up until three AM just expanding your knowledge?” He shakes his head and lets out a sigh of relief. “Freaking amazing.”

Phil nods his head in agreement and sticks his hands in his pockets, once again doing that weird thing where he only sticks two of his fingers in the slot. “So, you play guitar?” he asks, referring to Dan pretending to play the guitar part of “Here Comes the Sun”.

“Yeah,” he answers, shrugging his shoulders. “Since I was ‘round ten or eleven years old, I guess, when I heard Muse for the first time, I just kind of knew I wanted to play it.”

“’Plug-In Baby’?” Phil guesses, one of his eyebrows quirking upwards.

Dan laughs and nods his head. “That might’ve been it,” he replies. He shrugs his shoulders a second time. “It’s a phenomenal guitar solo; can you blame me for wanting to learn it?”

“Absolutely not,” Phil replies. He looks over at Dan and grins. “So, did you ever end up learning ‘Plug-In Baby’?”

“I did indeed,” Dan answers.

“So, you’re like, a musical prodigy then?”

Dan chuckles and shakes his head. “I wouldn’t say that, no,” he replies. “I just like practicing, I guess.”

“Do you enjoy performing?”

Dan nods his head and shrugs his shoulders. “I guess so, yeah,” he answers. “When I was in secondary school, sometimes I’d perform at the talent shows or whatever. Was accompaniment for the school choir sometimes, too.”

Phil grins widely. “That’s really cool,” he replies. “One of my employees…well, more like  _friend_ , Dodie plays the ukulele and sings. Writes her own songs, too. She had a guitarist play with her during her performances, but he’s at uni right now in Manchester, so it’s hard for him to come up and play with her.”

Dan peeks up at Phil with a sly grin on his face. “Are you suggesting something, Philip?” he asks jokingly.

Phil laughs, but he changes the subject slightly as he looks ahead, away from Dan. “I always wanted to learn guitar, but I’m  _definitely_  not musically inclined. Martyn took all the musical ability genes…if that even makes sense.”

“I got you,” Dan replies, nodding his head. “Does he play guitar?”

Phil shakes his head. “Violin,” he corrects. “And a little bit of piano, too. I tried to learn violin, but my instructor got mad at me because I wasn’t holding the bow right… _on the first practice!_  He yelled at me in front of the entire class! I was, like, eight, and he emotionally traumatized me!”

Dan laughs, though he tries to keep it quieter because he’s quite aware of how loud and obnoxious his laugh can be. “Did that really happen?”

“Mmm-hmm!” Phil responds. “After that, I never went back. I tried to teach myself for a little bit, but I honestly sounded like a dying cat. It was awful.”

“That’s kind of like how my piano teacher was,” Dan says. Phil gives him a confused look, and Dan nods his head. “Yeah, I also play the piano…terribly.” He shrugs his shoulders. “Anyway, so I had this piano teacher when I was, like, twelve, and she was, like, this hundred-year-old woman who lived on my street, and she was the crankiest, most rude person I have ever met in my life. One time, like during one of my very first lessons, she asked if I knew anything, and I told her I had learned how to play ‘Fur Elise’ by ear, and she asked me to play it for her, and the second I started playing, she started ranting about how repulsive I was.”

“That’s so rude!” Phil exclaims.

“I know, and the sad thing is I didn’t do what you did and quit right away; I continued to attend her lessons for, like, two months. Three times a week for two whole months, I put up with her.” He shakes his head in disgust. “I can’t believe my twelve year old self.”

“Neither can I,” Phil retorts as they move up so they are up to order their coffee.

“Can I have a grande caramel macchiato?” Dan asks when asked what he would like.

“Make that two,” Phil announces suddenly, moving up so he is standing next to Dan whilst pulling his wallet out of his back pocket. Dan looks over at him with a confused expression, and Phil just smiles simply at him as he pulls out his debit card. “What? Can’t I treat you to something?”

Dan lets out a sound that is a mix between a cough and an exhale. “You don’t have to,” he says simply, not knowing what else to say.

Phil shrugs his shoulders. “I know.” He hands his card to the barista and then glances up at the clock on the wall behind the counter. “What time do you have to be at work?”

“Eight,” Dan answers, glancing up at the clock, seeing that it reads 7:52.

Phil nods his head as the barista hands him his card back, and the two move down to the end of the counter, where they will wait for their drinks. “Tell Chris you’re going to be a little late,” he requests.

Dan furrows his eyebrows. “Why?”

Phil gives him a proud smile. “I want to hear more about your psycho piano teacher,” he replies. “And I want to show you my shop.”

——————————————–

After around twenty minutes, the two left the coffee shop in Dan’s car to head over to The Flower Pot; Phil normally walks everywhere as he claims he is the “worst driver in the world”. Dan’s not sure he wants to ever test that theory.

They took the short, around one-to-two minute drive to the flower shop, finding that the lights were on, the sign in the front window was changed, and the plants had already been watered.

“Yeah, my shop _also_  opens at eight, so…I’m also late, and Louise and Dodie are probably going to be  _pissed_ ,” Phil announces as he ushers Dan over to the front door. The two step inside the shop, the light bell above the door tinkling lightly.

“Philip Michael Lester, that is the third time this week!” a girl with curled blonde hair and a green apron exclaims from her spot at shelves near the front counter, where she is adjusting a display of succulents and cacti.

“Oh, did he finally decide to show up?” a brunette girl hunched over at the cash register asks, her hands sassily on her hips as she types away on the register. She glances up and gives a surprised expression when she sees Dan standing nervously behind Phil. “Oh, and he’s brought a guest!”

“A guest?” the other girl asks, her head shooting up, her eyes peering over to Phil, who is leading Dan over to where the two are.

Dan takes the moment to glance around the shop: windows are everywhere, and wooden shelves with potted plants are situated everywhere. A few hanging plants are hanging around and little patches of dirt and water are all over the tiled floor. It smells heavily of dirt and grass, which for whatever reason is comforting, and is immensely bright.

“Who’s this?” the blonde girl asks, wiping her hands on her apron.

Phil grins and places a friendly hand on Dan’s shoulder. “This is Dan,” he introduces. “He’s just moved here…well, not exactly  _moved_ , but he’s staying here in town for a little while.” Phil points to the blonde girl. “That’s Louise,” he then gestures to the brunette, “and that’s Dodie.”

“It’s lovely to meet you,” Louise says, enveloping Dan in a short hug, which Dan awkwardly returns. Louise laughs as she pulls away “Sorry; we’re all huggers here.”

“Not a problem,” Dan replies, not knowing what else to say.

Dodie steps up and also wraps her arms around Dan for a few seconds. “It’s nice to meet you,” she says politely. She steps back and glances over Dan’s facial features for a few seconds, her eyebrows furrowing. “Have…have I seen you before?”

Dan’s heartrate peaks, and he’s sure his face begins to turn a bright shade of pink, but he begs to any divine being that exists that neither Dodie, Louise, nor Phil notice it.

Surely she doesn’t recognize him from his band, right? That’s definitely not it, or, at least, that is what Dan is attempting to tell himself. There’s no way. Dan’s not judging her or anything, but she definitely doesn’t look like the kind of person that would listen to The Tomorrows.

“Um…I’ve been working at All Booked Up since I got here,” Dan says nervously, hoping that will suffice as an answer. He doesn’t have any idea if Dodie has even been in the bookshop since he came here.

Dodie nods her head, but before she can say anything else, Phil jumps in and switches the topic slightly. “Dan plays guitar!” he exclaims merrily, as if it’s the most exciting thing in the world.

“Ooh, a  _musician_?” Louise sings, smiling over at Dan.

Dan shyly shrugs his shoulders.

Louise looks over at Dodie and pats her shoulder. “You need a guitarist!” she exclaims. “This is  _perfect_! Just what you need, Dodie!”

Dodie laughs nervously as she tucks a strand of her short hair behind her hair. “Don’t scare the poor guy,” he says to Louise. She looks up at Dan apologetically. “I’m sorry on her behalf.”

Dan chuckles and shakes his head. “It’s fine,” he replies.

“And I’m sure this one,” she gestures to Phil, who gives a confused expression, “put you up to being my new guitarist?”

“A little, yeah,” Dan says, Phil whining “hey” afterwards. “But it’s fine, really.”

Dodie nods her head. “Well, I’d love to hear you play sometime,” she says sweetly.

“I’ll second that,” Louise announces.

“Thirded!” Phil replies, patting Dan’s shoulder.

Dan shoves him away, smiling widely at him. “That’s not even a word, you dingus!” he exclaims.

Phil laughs, his tongue sticking out from in-between his teeth. “Shut up!” he replies, just before the phone in the back office. He excuses himself and rushes back to the back room, closing the door behind him.

Louise and Dodie turn to Dan with significantly wider smiles than when Phil had been in the room. Dan furrows his eyebrows in confusion.

“Um…what?” he asks.

“Um…” Dodie starts, looking at Louise for assistance.

Louise blushes and bites her bottom lip for a few moments, as if trying to figure out how to word her answer. “Um…so…you and Phil are already pretty friendly, aren’t you?”

Dan shrugs his shoulders. “I mean, we’ve been talking a bit, so yeah, I’d say we’re friends,” he replies.

Louise purses her lips and places a finger to her chin. “Well, I mean…that’s not exactly what I meant by ‘friendly’,” she explains, her voice trailing off, and Dan’s mind instantly clicking with what she meant.

Dan runs a hand over his face and can’t help but smile. “Um…we’re just friends, guys,” he explains. “Just friends. Nothing else going on,” he says awkwardly.

Dodie nods her head and raises her eyebrows as she returns to her spot behind the register. “Sure,” she says simply, and Dan gives her a confused expression.

“Just know that Phil’s quick to love,” Louise explains, also returning to her work. “And we know the signs by heart…and they’re pretty evident.”

Dan sticks his hands in his pockets as he glances back at the office, hearing the faint sounds of Phil’s friendly voice speaking to someone about setting up an appointment for wedding flowers.

They only met a few days ago. It’s nothing to be concerned about.

———————————-

“Okay, I have a question,” Dan says as he strolls through the aisles in The Flower Pot. He found himself here on his lunchbreak while trying to find his way to a diner or restaurant of some kind, but the familiar painted sign of the flower shop beckoned him to come in.

Phil, who is watering some potted plants situated at the front window, turns around slightly so he can see Dan. “Shoot,” he replies.

“So, I’m looking at these tulips,” Dan says, gesturing to the pots of different colored tulips in clay pots.

“Yep,” Phil replies, setting the watering can down beside the plants. He walks over to where Dan is standing.

Dan gestures to a little white card poking out of the dirt in the pot. “Why does this say ‘declaration of love’?” he asks.

“Oh,” Phil replies, wiping his hands on his green apron, “that means that tulips are used to represent a declaration of love.”

Dan furrows his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“Like, if you were to declare your love to someone, you could give them tulips,” Phil replies. He goes down the shelf of flowers and gestures to purple irises. “These represent wisdom, so it would be good to give for, say, graduations or something of the sort.” He points to some peonies on the bottom shelf. “These represent a happy marriage or good health, so maybe give it for a wedding anniversary or something.”

Dan furrows his eyebrows as he peers closer at the pot that the peonies are in. “Wait…what is written on the pot?” he asks, kneeling down on the tiled floor. He peers at the pot closer, and he groans aloud when he sees it.

_A PEONY for your thoughts_

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Dan asks, pointing to the pot.

“What?” Phil asks.

“You’re one of  _those_  people that uses puns all the time?”

Phil laughs and nods his head as Dan stands up. “I thought it was funny!” he exclaims.

“And I bet it took you way too much time to actually think of it,” Dan replies, crossing his arms over his chest.

Phil shrugs his shoulders. “I mean, not that bad. They just kinda hap-pun.”

Dan cringes and claws at his hair as Phil chuckles loudly at his own joke. “Oh my God, why are you this way?” he asks.

“There’re puns everywhere; I can’t believe you haven’t noticed,” Phil says, leading Dan to the other side of the shelf, where there are succulents, cacti, and aloe vera plants.

Dan looks around at the pots and makes uncomfortable faces as he reads the various plant-themed puns written on the pots.

_Lookin’ SHARP!_

_Say ALOE to my little friend_

_I’ll never DESERT you_

_I’m a SUCC-er for you_

Dan groans and shakes his head. “I can’t believe you. I literally cannot believe you.”

Phil laughs as he walks around the back of the aisle, back to the flowers. He grabs a little pot and hands it to Dan. “Maybe you’ll enjoy this one?” he asks, handing the pot to Dan. It contains a light red carnation, but the text on the pot distracts Dan from the beauty of the flower.

_what in carnation_

And there was a fucking cowboy hat painted on the pot as well.

Dan shakes his head and turns around, Phil laughing all the while. “I’m leaving. I’m done. I’m never coming back. You’re a disgrace, Phil Lester.”

———————————-

They continued to visit with each other nearly every day. Either Dan would come to The Flower Pot, or Phil would stop by the bookshop on his way to work. They’d chat for a bit, and then text throughout the day. Dan would get looks from Chris and Evan when they saw him on his phone during his break, the looks basically asking “who are you talking to?” and “who or what is making you smile like an idiot?”.

Dodie and Louise have also been quite friendly to him, always sending lovely glances and sharing humorous conversation with him. Dodie still sends him questioning glances sometimes, as if trying to figure out who exactly Dan is, but Dan pretends he doesn’t notice most of the time.

“Your constant happiness is literally terrifying,” PJ says one night when he and Dan were on the phone. Dan is sprawled across Chris’s couch, a rerun of  _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_  (as that is Phil’s favorite show…the man is literally obsessed with it, and hearing him talk about it just made Dan want to re-watch it) on, still in his day clothes as he is far too lazy to get up from his spot to throw on some pyjamas.

Dan laughs and shakes his head. “How is it terrifying?” he asks.

“I literally don’t think I’ve ever heard you be this happy before,” he answers, sounding shocked. “This is quite… _new_ , really.” He pauses for a few seconds, and Dan waits for him to say anything else. “Um…not that it’s a  _bad_ thing, of course, it’s just…it’s just so…yeah, new. I’m not used to it.” He pauses again. “Like I said, it’s not a bad thing.”

“Peej, freaking shut up,” Dan replies, laughing. He lets out a sigh and looks out the window. “It’s fine. I’m…I’m actually…I really have been feeling a lot happier since coming here. Not that I don’t love you guys or anything, but…this break was just necessary, really.”

“I’m happy for you,” PJ says sincerely. “Even sleeping on a couch and working in a random shop is nice?”

“It actually really is,” Dan replies. “Surprisingly enough.”

“I’m glad.” He sighs briefly before continuing. “We had our auditions for the fill-in guitarist the other day.”

Dan raises his eyebrows, his interest piqued. “Really? How did that go?” he asks, readjusting his seat so his feet are resting on the floor instead of on the coffee table in front of the couch.  

PJ chuckles. “Well, if I’m being honest-“

“Which I would appreciate greatly if you were,” Dan interrupts.

“-none of them were really as good as you are. We had some pretty decent players, but none of them really stood out, you know? Most of them were just kinda…average, I guess,” PJ finishes.

“Are you still holding the auditions still, or are you just going to pick from who’s auditioned already?”

“We’re not entirely sure yet,” PJ replies. “Ryan is still holding onto the idea that he’s going to learn guitar basically impossibly fast. Like that’s actually going to go through.”

“Has he even started?”

“He’s held a guitar, but that’s about as far as he’s gotten,” PJ answers with a chuckle. He lets out a long sigh. “He keeps telling us he’s going to, but he just hasn’t…you know…gotten up and done it yet. I think we’re just going to bring some new guy in for the time being.”

Dan scratches the back of his neck and feels a twinge of guilt in his chest. “Um…sorry,” he apologizes.

“Dude, don’t be sorry,” PJ replies. “I know I sounded all pissy and shit when you first left, but you and I both know now that you definitely needed to be away. I mean, hell, I haven’t heard you be this happy in a really long time, so I think this was just what you needed. And then you’ll come back to the group eventually, once you’re feeling refreshed and whatever, and everything will go back to normal. Perfect, right?”

That feeling in his chest hits him again. Of course PJ thinks that Dan is definitely coming back. Dan knows that there is a possibility of him coming back, yes, but there is also a chance he might not. What would PJ do then? Would he still be the supportive friend that he’s being right now? Would he lash out?

Dan sighs and nods his head. “Right,” he says, not knowing what else to say.

Right as PJ begins to say something, the door to the flat opens, and Chris appears in the doorway, a small Tesco’s bag in his hand. Dan quickly tells PJ he needs to go, and then he hangs up the phone.

“A friend?” Chris asks, referring to the phone call.

Dan nods his head. “Yeah, my friend PJ was just kinda…wondering how I was doing, I guess,” he answers, getting up from his seat on the couch. “Wondering when I’m going to be back home.”

Chris raises his eyebrows in interest. “And?”

Dan laughs. “Are you getting tired of having me crash on your sofa already?” he asks jokingly.

Chris rolls his eyes and smiles. “I’ve always wanted a roommate,” he explains as he sets the bag on the breakfast bar. He leans his arms against the countertop.

“Sure,” Dan says, taking a seat. “But, no, I still really don’t know when I’m leaving. I still haven’t really sort that out yet.”

“Have a lot of things to work out mentally?” Chris asks.

Dan nods his head, snorting. “Definitely a lot of things. More than I think I can handle sometimes.”

“It’ll all work out,” Chris says, pulling out the contents of his bag.

Dan leans his head on his hand. “I sure do hope so…”

——————————————–

“You know, you never told me what got you so interested in botany,” Dan says one evening, where they are seated together in a diner after work, getting a quick dinner together.

Phil furrows his eyebrows. “I never did?” he asks. He laughs when Dan shakes his head. “I’m surprised, considering how much I talk about plants.” He sits back in his seat. “Well, I’m not really sure how it really started, but I remember my mum always having a garden, and I always loved helping her plant the flowers, and I loved taking care of them for her, and…” he pauses to laugh, “I just became the person to take care of it and start it when the weather got nice enough, and it eventually just became  _my_  garden.”

He shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know, I just always loved being out there working with the plants, and…I started reading about them and what they do and how they grow and what they mean, and it was all incredibly fascinating to me.” He shrugs. “Maybe it’s because I really like helping something grow, you know? Helping it thrive and build up. It just makes me feel good, I guess.”

Dan smiles. “That’s sweet,” he says.

Phil shakes his head, and then decides to change the subject. “So, I’ve shown you my plants and my shop, but you still have yet to show me your guitar skills.”

Dan laughs, his dimples appearing. He glances out the window for a few brief moments, smiling uncontrollably. “Of course you had to bring that up,” he replies. He runs a hand thorough his hair and shrugs his shoulders.

Phil shrugs his shoulders. “I mean, I feel like I deserve to hear.”

Dan nods his head. “Yes, I feel that as well,” he replies, folding his hands on the table. “Anytime you want to hear, I’ll play for you.”

“And I’m sure you’re amazing.”

“You keep saying that, you dork,” Dan replies, slapping Phil’s hand.

Phil grins proudly at him. “Because I’m sure you are,” he replies. “You seem so passionate about it, that there’s no doubt in my mind how good you probably are.” He glances out the window for a few seconds, turning his attention back to Dan soon after. “And, hey, if you’re willing to let Dodie hear and…you know…you know where I’m going with this – I’m sure you’ve heard this from Chris and Louise enough.”

Dan nods his head. “Maybe,” he says. “If she needs me, I’ll probably do it.”

“Have you performed in front of people before?” Phil asks curiously.

Dan cautiously nods his head. “Um…yeah, at…at…uh…like school shows and stuff,” he replies.

“And performing at the café would be a lot less than performing in front of an entire school,” Phil says. “You’ve seen the stage, and you’ve seen the number of people that show up – it’s not a lot. And you’d probably only perform, like, a handful of songs.”

“That doesn’t sound bad at all,” Dan replies. It sounds significantly better than performing a whole album and  _then some_  in front of thousands of people. Performing at a small café with only four or five songs in front of, say, thirty people doesn’t sound terrible at all.

Phil nods his head. “But only if you want to, of course.”

Dan smiles. “Of course.”

——————————————–

And a few days later, Phil finally gets to hear Dan on his guitar.

“I’m so excited to finally hear you play!” Phil exclaims merrily as Dan takes his seat down on the couch beside Phil. They’re in Chris’s living room after the two have finished work for the day. They had gotten some coffee together, and Dan and Chis invited him over for the evening.

Dan has his guitar out, as Phil begged for him to play for him; the guitar strap is wrapped around his neck and torso. He looks over at Phil and sees a look of complete and utter excitement on his face. Dan shakes his head fondly as he strums all six strings, checking of they’re in tune.

“He’s really quite fantastic,” Chris notes as he strolls into the living room, taking his seat on the armchair away from Dan and Phil. “I hear him play sometimes in the evenings, and it’s very nice to listen to.”

Dan shrugs his shoulders as he quickly adjusts all the tuning pegs, and then proceeds to strum the strings again, the notes now in-tune.

“Take a compliment!” Phil exclaims, hitting Dan’s shoulder gently. “I’m sure you’re  _amazing_.”

“You’re a professional at assuming things,” Dan says, rolling his eyes. He adjusts his hold on the guitar. “Any requests to start it off?”

“’Plug-In Baby’?” Phil requests. “I’d love to hear the song that made you want to learn.”

Dan chuckles and places his fingers over the correct strings, pressing down on them. “Solid choice; I just have to remember how to play it,” he explains.

“How long has it been since you played it?” Phil asks curiously, resting his arm over the top of the back of the couch, behind Dan.

“A few years, if I’m being honest. But I’m sure I can figure it all out.”

He strums the chord he just formed with the strings, deciding it is the correct chord to begin the song, so he easily remembers how the pattern of the strings and frets goes for the introduction.

His fingers slide seamlessly from note to note, the familiar-sounding melody playing forth from the vibrations of the strings. Dan keeps his eyes concentrated on the neck of the guitar, making sure his fingers are in the correct positioning, and also because he’s too nervous to look up and see Phil’s facial expression.

He successfully manages to play the beginning of the song, even a little bit into the verse, but he stops once he gets to the pre-chorus. He nervously looks up at Phil and blushes a deep shade of pink. He strums a muted chord and laughs awkwardly. “Um…I forgot how the chord progression goes for the refrain.”

He actually does remember. It’s a simple progression of G, F sharp, and B minor back and forth. But his hands are shaking so much from nerves that he can’t bring himself to play the rest of it.

“Who cares? That was freaking awesome!” Phil exclaims, applauding.

“I don’t know how you manage to make that look so damn easy,” Chris adds, nodding his head in approval.

Dan shrugs his shoulders a little, not sure what to say.

“Don’t be so modest!” Phil says, reaching over and pressing his hand on top of Dan’s, which instantly sends sparks down Dan’s arm, making him even more nervous. “That was really, really,  _really_ amazing. You’re really good, Dan.” He smiles fondly. “You have a true talent.”

Dan bites his bottom lip and smiles slightly. “Thanks,” he mutters.

“You’d be  _perfect_  for performing with Dodie,” Chris notes. “Someone as talented and experienced as you would be just what she needs.”

“But it’s all based on if he  _wants_  to do it,” Phil points out, removing his hand from Dan’s, which almost saddens him a little.

Chris looks over at Dan and gives him a questioning look, not needing to say anything. Dan bites the inside of his bottom lip, glancing from Chris to Phil and then at his guitar.

He loves playing guitar; that’s a given. He loves music and making it and all this stuff. But the whole reason why he left The Tomorrows was so he could escape the performance part of it.

But if it’s just in this little town with Dodie, and they probably wouldn’t perform nearly every single day, he could perhaps deal with that.

Dan shrugs his shoulders. “I guess I can, yeah,” he says.

Chris and Phil both stare at him for a few seconds, as if trying to process that he just agreed (when they were both probably thinking that he was going to reject). Their eyes widen and their jaws drop, and they both give a cheer of victory, Phil grabbing Dan’s hand once again.

“That’s awesome!” Chris exclaims. “I knew you had it in you!” He pulls out his phone and unlocks it. “I’m Facetiming Dodie right now! She needs to hear you.”

Phil looks at Dan with an excited expression, and Dan can’t help but copy it. Seeing Phil’s joyous expression just makes Dan want to do this even more.

—————————————-

After receiving Dodie’s acceptance of Dan as her new guitarist, Dan ended up spending every other night practicing with her, going through her set of songs that she sang during her little performances at Live Today Café. Some of those songs were originals that she wrote herself, so those took some more time than the covers, but after about an hour or so, he would have the song down pat, and he and Dodie would be playing with ease.

Phil would sometimes “accidentally” drop by Dodie’s flat conveniently when they were rehearsing, and since he was over, he’d say he “might as well just stay and listen for a bit”. He’d sit with a proud smile on his face as he watched Dodie and Dan finish up their rehearsal, and then Phil would treat him to dinner.

Dan had to admit: he was enjoying this whole thing  _a lot_. He loved not having excruciatingly long rehearsals every day – theirs were only every other day and usually only lasted an hour or two, while with The Tomorrows, that could go upwards of four.

Dan liked that if he had some kind of suggestion or criticism that Dodie would take it into consideration without a second thought. When bringing up any recommendation to Ryan, he would get turned down immediately.

Dan, though he would never admit it aloud,  _loved_  hearing the compliments. Phil’s constant praises for his guitar skills never cease to make Dan’s heart beat fast and make him blush like an idiot. He’d never gotten that when he was back with the other guys. He’d never gotten that for most of his life, as a matter of fact.

So, there was really no reason why he shouldn’t have enjoyed this more than with the other guys. Who would blame him?

So, around two weeks after practicing with Dodie, she figured they were set enough to actually perform their rehearsed set live. It would just be him and Dodie, Dan playing guitar and her singing while playing either ukulele or piano. There was a small stage in the café that they would perform on, and people could listen while they waited in line to order or while they sat in their booths, sipping their warm coffees or teas.

Phil came with the two while they were setting up, saying he was going to be there for moral support. Chris and Louise would be coming later, once the performance actually began.

Dodie, dressed in her flowing yellow dress, strums lightly on her ukulele as Dan finishes tuning. Phil is next to Dan, his hands strangely placed in his pockets as he watches Dan as he gets situated.

“You have the set list, right?” Dodie asks. “The five songs we’ve been rehearsing?”

Dan nods his head and pulls the sheet of notebook paper containing the list of songs from his pocket. They decided to do two originals and three covers. It shouldn’t be that difficult of a performance, except for the fact that the thought of someone in the audience seeing him or hearing him play and figuring out who he is. He’s sure he’s just overthinking and that it isn’t going to happen, but there’s a little voice in the back of his mind that is bothering him about it.

He’s sure it’ll be fine. It has to go fine.

“Got it ready,” Dan says, playing an A chord. “You’re just playing piano on ‘When’, right?”

Dodie nods her head. “Yep! It’s going to be awesome!” She smiles at Dan as she sets her ukulele down on the bench of the keyboard. She then turns her attention to Phil, who is glancing over the set list. “Phil, would you be a darling and get me a bottle of water? I’ll pay you back for it,” she requests.

“Not a problem,” Phil replies, patting Dan’s shoulder as he steps off the stage, heading over to the cashier.

Dodie places her hands on her hips as she faces Dan, that questioning look returning once again. Dan gulps nervously as she lets out a long sigh.

“Okay – there’s something I’ve really been meaning to ask you,” she says, taking a seat on her stool so she can be at eye-level with Dan. “And I know right now might not be the best time to ask, considering we’re performing in ‘round fifteen minutes, but…”

“What…?” Dan asks, drawing the word out. He places his guitar on the stand right below his stool and folds his hands neatly in his lap.

Dodie tucks her short brunette hair behind her ear and scratches her wrist for a few seconds, contemplating how to word her question. Dan watches her anxiously, rubbing his hands and trying not to focus too hard on his own questions forming in his head.

“Um…okay, so…you’re…” she furrows her eyebrows as she looks up at Dan, “…you’re Dan Howell from The Tomorrows, aren’t you?” she asks cautiously.

Dan’s eyes widen, and he can feel the hair on the back of his neck stand up on end the second those words enter his ears. His heart drops to his stomach, and dear God his hair better not begin to curl – he spent fifteen minutes straightening it to perfection before coming here.

Of course. Of fucking course the person he’s performing with was the one he should’ve been looking out for – not the audience.

Dan sighs and slumps his shoulders as his eyes fall to the ground. “Um…how…how did you know?” he asks quietly, not wishing for anyone else to hear. He’s glad the microphones are not yet turned on, as they weren’t planning on doing that for another five minutes. Phil’s luckily far enough away so he can’t hear them.

“I listen to you guys,” Dodie answers, as if it’s the simplest thing in the world – which it technically is the simplest answer. “You’re on the radio all the time.” She runs a hand through her bangs. “I know I might not look like the kind of person who listens to that kind of music,” she gestures to her yellow dress, and Dan can’t help but laugh, “but believe me – I’ve listened to more hardcore stuff than that.”

Dan nods his head and shrugs his shoulders. “I mean…what can I say?”

Dodie smiles. “I’ve been wanting to ask since the first time you came into The Flower Pot,” she explains, “but you looked so nervous, like you didn’t want to answer when I asked you if I had seen you before. I thought Phil had recognized you or something.” She shrugs. “Clearly he didn’t.”

“I mean,” Dan replies, “I’ve just been…trying to keep it a bit of a secret, you know? I’m not really wanting everyone to know. I mean…if you’ve seen any of the articles or whatever.”

“What, that you’ve left the band for good and that you’re being replaced by some rando dude?”

Dan nods his head. “And that Ryan is wanting to take over my parts once he gets good enough at guitar.” He shakes his head. “The man’s never touched an instrument in his life.”

Dodie laughs, but she does stop soon after, turning serious once more. “Um…so…why  _did_ you leave?” she asks. “I mean…you were living the dream: touring, making albums, performing for thousands of people nearly every night…that’s literally the dream. Why’d you give it up?”

Dan chuckles nervously and looks down at the floor again, feeling his heart rate spike once more. He rubs his forehead and clears his throat, trying to get comfortable enough to explain. “Well, um…I wasn’t happy, is basically the short answer,” he replies. He shrugs his shoulders. “I just wasn’t happy with it all. I didn’t…you know…didn’t think it was the life for me.” He doesn’t quite want to go into much detail yet. He’s not ready for that yet.

Dodie nods her head, probably understanding why he isn’t saying much about the whole situation. “Well, you certainly seem happy here.”

Dan smiles, and his eyes automatically fall onto Phil, who is laughing as he speaks to the cashier; Phil’s probably just told a joke or made a pun of some kind, an attempt to make the person’s day, which he has clearly succeeded in doing. Dan’s heart warms, and he turs to Dodie with the look of a love-struck idiot.

“I am,” he says, nodding his head. “I definitely am.”

—————————————–

“You guys were  _amazing_!” Phil exclaims as he heads up to the stage after the performance has concluded. Chris and Louise follow closely behind him, similar expressions of excitement on their faces.

Phil walks over to Dodie and wraps his arms around her for a few brief seconds, then doing the same to Dan, however for a longer period of time. Dan hopes that the new red tint to his cheeks doesn’t show up too much in the lighting.

“It was absolutely amazing,” Louise says. “I loved it. I absolutely loved it.” She turns to Dan. “You’re an amazing musician.”

Dan bows his head and smiles. “Thanks,” he replies.

Chris clutches his shoulder and shakes him slightly. “You’re getting better at accepting compliments! I’m proud of you, man,” he says.

“He is really good,” Dodie says, walking over and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “Thanks for performing with me; it’s so much better with someone else and not just by myself.”

Dan smiles and nods his head. “No problem,” he replies. He glances up from behind his eyelashes and sends a smile to Phil, who quickly returns one.

Once the other three have left, all of them probably going to get some dinner, Phil wraps his arms around Dan again; Dan easily returns the embrace, placing his head on his shoulder, a spot that he feels instantly comforted in.

“I’m really proud of you,” Phil says into Dan’s ear. “You were so good. I loved it.”

Dan smiles and nuzzles his nose into the fabric of Phil’s plaid button-up. “Thank you,” he whispers, blinking rapidly to avoid any tears that may fall, as he feels them coming.

Phil pulls back and smiles down at Dan. Dan grins back, then moves away to grab his guitar case, strapping it over his shoulder.

Once it is on, Phil reaches over and takes a hold of Dan’s hand, intertwining their fingers. He leads Dan off the stage and over to the table he, Chris, and Louise had been sitting at, and, from under the table, he pulls out a bouquet of flowers: some big purple flowers with little stems of small white flowers mixed in, neatly placed and definitely put together by Phil.

Phil hands the bouquet to Dan, a bright smile on his face. “For you,” he says as Dan takes them.

Dan grins and brings them to his nose, sniffing the lovely scent. “Thank you,” he replies. “What flowers are these?”

“The purple ones are malvas, and the white ones are clovenlips,” Phil explains, placing his hands behind his back.

“Do they have any sort of special meaning?” Dan asks, knowing Phil has such an extensive knowledge of the special meanings behind plants. He loves that he can just spurt out facts about flowers within a second of being asked.

Phil blushes lightly and chuckles. “Well…I’ll leave that for you to look up,” he replies.

Dan raises his eyebrows, and Phil shoves his shoulder. After, he takes Dan by the hand again and leads him out of the café.

“Thank you for coming,” Dan says once the door to the café has closed, leaving the two of them outside, near the curb, the sun setting slowly in the horizon. The sky has hues of purple and pink, the clouds’ silhouettes easily seen. “It really means a lot to me.”

Phil smiles and squeezes Dan’s hand. “I wanted to come,” he replies. “I love seeing you play. You always look so…so  _happy_  when you’re playing. It’s mesmerizing.”

Dan chuckles, ducking his head. “Well, it is one of the only things that does make me happy,” he says, his voice low.

“What are some of the other things?” Phil asks curiously.

Heat rises to Dan’s face as he looks back up at Phil, staring intently into the crystal blue orbs. “You know a lot of them,” he says. “But, um…the one that tops all of them is, uh…is…is being with you.”

Phil smiles softly and places his free hand on the small of Dan’s back. “I like being with you, too,” he replies, his face coming closer to Dan’s. Their noses touch, and Dan feels relief go throughout his entire system. His shoulders relax and he feels internally comforted.

Phil squeezes Dan’s hand tightly as he leans in and presses his lips softly against Dan’s. The touch is magnetic and electrifying – shocks shoot throughout Dan’s body, his stomach turning to mush and his legs turning to jelly. He holds tightly to Phil’s hand, his other hand nearly dropping the bouquet, but he manages to hold his ground.

It feels so goddamn right; Dan can’t even explain how right it feels to have Phil’s lips on his, moving together slowly and lovingly. It’s as if their lips were meant to connect and fit together like they are now. No words can describe this feeling, and Dan wants to remain like this forever.

However, Phil eventually pulls away after a few seconds. He leans his forehead against Dan’s as their lungs catch up with their bodies.

After a few moments of silence, Phil presses one quick kiss on Dan’s lips and pulls away. “I’ll see you later, Dan.”

He pulls away, looks at Dan for one more second, and then turns on his heel, walking away from Dan in the opposite direction.

Dan stares at him for a few moments, unable to process what just happened.

—————————————-

Later that night, when Dan returns back to Chris’s flat, he pulls up his laptop and looks up what the meanings of the flowers are.

On a website entirely dedicated to flowers, Dan reads:

_Malvas are said to represent someone being completely consumed by love._

_Linaria bipartita (also known as “clovenlip” or “toadflax”) is used to represent someone wishing to have his or her love noticed or recognized_.

Dan’s cheeks turn a bright pink and his heart skips a beat.

He flops down on the couch, a hand over his heart, not able to hide his smile.

“Dear God, I’m a lovestruck idiot.”

—————————————–

The next morning, Dan finds himself returning to Live Today Café at his usual time, despite it being his day off, where he doesn’t need to get up this early, and he could definitely just get coffee at Chris’s place. However, something in him was just telling him he should go out.

He also finds himself walking to the café, instead of just taking his car like he normally does because he’s usually pretty lazy in the mornings, and also because it’s easier to just drive to work afterwards instead of walk.

But, ever since that kiss last night, Dan is just filled with some kind of energy. Like, his heart was beating so fast and his mind was racing so much last night that he couldn’t fall asleep until the wee hours of the night. However, when he woke up, he felt refreshed despite not having slept for long. Perhaps it was the high from the kiss. Dan’s not too sure.

He steps inside the shop, and the soft sounds of The Beatles’ “Across the Universe” fills Dan’s ears. The smell of coffee and tea is overwhelming at first, but as he walks up to the line of people, he gets used to it. He sticks his hands in his pockets and looks down at the floor, not wishing to make any eye contact with anyone.

However, after around a minute or so, as the line steadily moves upwards, someone stands directly beside Dan. A familiar warmth radiates off the person, and Dan instantly is able to tell who it is.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Phil’s voice rings from above Dan.

Dan looks up and grins widely when he sees him standing beside him. “Hey,” he greets, taking a step closer to him.

“Didn’t think you would be here today, since you’re not working,” Phil notes as the line moves up.

Dan shrugs his shoulders. “Was craving a semi-overpriced caramel macchiato, I guess,” he replies. “Need to start off my day with going over my maximum sugar intake.”

Phil laughs and nods his head. “Well, care to sit together?” he asks, gesturing with his head to the booth on the other side of the room – the one that they always sit at together.

“Of course,” Dan replies.

They order their drinks together, Phil offers to pay (despite Dan begging him not to, considering he  _just_  made the joke about how overpriced some of the things on the menu are), and then they take their seats in the booth, sitting across from each other.

“So…last night,” is how Phil begins the conversation that Dan could easily predict was going to take place.

Dan laughs, his dimples appearing. “What a great way to start off the conversation,” he says.

Phil shrugs his shoulders and grins back, his eyes focused entirely on Dan’s face. “I mean, I had to start it  _somehow_.”

“That was so, like, blunt, you absolute spork!”

Phil shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “Shut up,” he replies. “Be kind to the person who gave you flowers and coffee.”

Dan rolls his eyes as well and nods his head afterwards, signaling Phil to keep speaking.

Phil smiles and lays his head in his hand. “So…I just…wanted to make sure you were…okay with it, I guess? I don’t exactly know how to word it. I know it was, like, really kinda…random, in a way? I don’t know, I thought the moment called for it, but-“

Dan laughs and takes a hold of Phil’s hand, which was set on the table. “Phil, you’re rambling,” Dan interrupts. Phil closes his mouth and looks at Dan expectantly. Dan smiles at him and squeezes his hand tightly with his. “I enjoyed our kiss a lot last night.”

Phil lets out a little sigh of relief. “Okay, good,” he says. “I was worried it was one-sided.”

Dan shakes his head. “It definitely wasn’t one-sided,” he replies. He looks down at their intertwined hands. “It was…it was different than other kisses, I felt. Y’know? There…there was something there.”

“I felt it, too,” Phil says. “There was, like, electricity or something.”

Dan nods his head, agreeing. “It was really, really, really nice.” He sends a beam up at Phil’s face. Phil returns the smile and strokes his thumb over Dan’s knuckles, which trails little goosebumps up Dan’s arm. He’s glad he decided to wear a jumper today, so it’s hidden. “So…what does that make us now?”

Phil shrugs his shoulders. “Whatever you want us to be,” he replies. “Whatever you want, I’m fine with. You call the shots.”

“I mean…I’m willing to try this out if you are,” he suggests, not knowing what else to say.

Phil smiles and nods his head. “I’m willing and ready,” he replies, laughing at his own response.

Dan blushes and smiles. “So it’s settled.”

“So it’s settled,” Phil repeats, lifting Dan’s hand up to his mouth, pressing a kiss on his knuckles.

Dan is definitely willing and ready, too.

——————————————–

They established that they were going to keep their relationship to themselves for a bit – act like they had been before around their friends, and then when they were alone, be all lovey-dovey or whatever it is that couples do. Dan hasn’t been in a relationship since he was sixteen, so he almost forgot what it was like to be with someone romantically.

Dan has always known he was bisexual. Ever since he was a little kid, he’d had crushes on both boys and girls. He realized it was considered “weird” when he and his friends when they were quite young, and how each of them were picking out who they were going to marry when they were older.

It was simple and traditional: all the boys picked girls, and all the girls picked boys. Henry chose Elizabeth, Rose chose Adam, so on and so forth.

But when it came time for Dan to say his, he shocked everyone by saying he was going to marry this boy called Spencer, who sat at his table during art class and was really good at drawing characters from video games.

Everyone turned to him with confused expressions: eyes widened or eyebrows furrowed, but all jaws dropped. Dan shrugged his shoulders and asked what was bothering everybody.

One girl, Molly was her name, put her hands on her hips and shook her head. “Boys can’t marry boys,” she stated in a sassy voice.

“Why not?” Dan had asked.

“Because it’s wrong and gross,” Molly’s friend Stephanie answered. “Boys marry girls, and girls marry boys. Boys can’t marry boys, and girls can’t marry girls.”

“Dan’s  _gay_!” a boy called Timothy exclaimed. “He likes  _boys_  even though  _he’s_  a  _boy_! Ewww!” He stuck his tongue out in disgust. Everyone followed in pursuit.

After that, it was repress and never think about it again.

Something was clearly wrong with him – or at least that’s what his classmates were telling him. He was wrong and weird for liking boys. No boy would ever like him in return because boys are meant to like girls.

He never acted upon his desire to be with a boy. He only dated girls, kissed girls, and had sex with girls. That was it. Anytime he felt attracted to a boy, he had to keep it to himself. No boy would ever return those feelings.

Phil has dated boys before.

He’s definitely gay, he told Dan.

“I’ve never been attracted to females,” he explained. “Never once. It was always with guys.”

He told his parents when he was quite young – Phil remembers it as age ten when he told them. His parents and brother had hugged him tightly and told him how proud they were that he managed to find the courage to tell them, and that they were so glad he had deiced to come out.

Then began the dating.

Before Dan, there had been a few boys in secondary school, and some during university. They never lasted long, and most never went past making out. They were all pretty casual relationships in which both parties knew it wasn’t going to last.

The most serious relationship he had was with a boy named Charlie, which was two years ago. They dated for around a year or so before Phil called it off, as he didn’t feel comfortable in the relationship.

Charlie was too demanding, Phil said. He didn’t appreciate Phil or anything he did for him. All he really wanted was sex. Nothing more or less. That wasn’t what Phil wanted – Phil wanted much more than that. He wanted someone to talk to, someone to share things with, someone to do things with, someone to make memories with.

But Charlie took advantage of Phil’s kindness and used him. It took Phil a year to raise the courage to tell Charlie he’d had enough. And after that, he was left damaged and needed time to recover.

He took a break from love and focused on building up his shop. He put all his time and effort into learning about plants: the proper ways to manage them, what plants’ special meanings are, all these things. He put the time he had been spending with Charlie into his passion.

But when Dan came to Rawtenstall, everything changed.

“I’m a hopeless romantic,” Phil explained as they walk down the street, Dan holding onto Phil’s arm as he listens intently. “And the thing with us is that we fall quickly.” He looked down at Dan with a look of fondness. “For you, I fell the quickest.”

That was the most Dan had ever blushed in his entire life.

But nothing much really changed when they decided to begin their relationship. Their coffee time before work stayed the same, the occasional dinner together remained the same, and literally everything else was just normal. There was just more kissing, hugging, and holding hands mixed into how it already was, making their hangouts into more of dates. Dan obviously didn’t mind it at all.

One morning, around two weeks into Dan and Phil’s relationship, Phil didn’t show up to get coffee with Dan at the café that morning, unlike what they usually do. So, Dan ordered the drinks to go and brought them to The Flower Pot.

Louise wasn’t in yet, Phil wasn’t in the main shop, and Dodie was stationed at her spot at the register, sitting down as she scrolls through her phone, which she does when no one comes into the shop. People usually come in the afternoons, so the mornings are very relaxed and quiet, with not much going on. It’s similar to how it is at Chris’s bookshop.

“Good morning!” Dan calls as he walks into the shop, catching Dodie’s attention. He strolls over to the counter and places the two to-go cups of coffee down.

“Morning,” Dodie replies, setting her phone down beside the coffees. “Looking for Phil?”

Dan shrugs his shoulders. “Yeah,” he says simply.

Dodie smiles and nods her head. “He got a call in this morning. Someone needed to have a meeting ASAP about flowers for a funeral,” she explains. “He’s finishing up with them right now, but I’m sure he’ll be right out.”

“Great,” Dan replies, hopping up onto the counter.

“You sound very excited to see him,” Dodie notes as she picks up Dan’s cup and sniffs it, deciphering what roast of coffee it is.

“When am I not?” Dan asks. While he and Phil aren’t telling people about their relationship quite yet, Dan is still open to alluding to it sneakily with their friends. He doesn’t think any of them have figured it out yet, but he’s sure they won’t be surprised when they do tell them. That’s how they’d like having the situation work out.

“True,” Dodie replies, setting the cup down. She leans back in her seat and crosses her arms over her chest. “So…when are you going to tell him?”

Dan furrows his eyebrows. “Tell him what? That I’m excited to see him?”

Dodie shakes her head. “No, that…that you’re in a band. That you’re basically famous,” he reiterates.

Dan’s face turns slightly paler than it already was as he chuckles nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “Oh…that.”

Dodie nods her head. “Yeah… _that_ ,” she says in a similar tone. “It’s pretty important information that I’m sure Phil would  _love_ to know.”

The bad thing is that thought hadn’t even occurred to Dan. He completely forgot that he’s basically living this sort of Hannah Montana “double life” scenario, and he’s neglected to tell his friend-and-now-boyfriend that he is a guitarist for a pretty popular band. That somehow managed to slip by his thoughts.

Perhaps it’s because Dan has been enjoying living this normal life so much. He’s been able to do so many things that he hasn’t been able to since joining The Tomorrows. He’s free to do whatever he wants to without worrying about what Ryan, their manager, or the fans/paparazzi think. He can work a normal job, he can go on dates, he can go to the grocery store without going incognito…all these things he was never able to do before, and now that he can, he can’t get enough.

Perhaps that’s it.

“Um…I really have no idea,” Dan concludes, shaking his head.

Dodie raises her eyebrows. “Are you even planning on telling him?”

“I mean…yeah.” He clears his throat and looks out the window. “I just…just haven’t…” he looks over at Dodie, who is basically giving him an “mmm-hmm, yeah right” expression, “…um…haven’t worked out when or how.” He shrugs his shoulders. “I can’t casually drop that into a conversation.”

“I’m not saying it has to be casual,” Dodie replies. “I’m saying sit down with him and go through your situation with him, that way he understands and that you’re not hiding a really big part of your life.”

Dan sighs. “I mean-“

The door to the back office bursts open, revealing Phil standing there, his glasses askew as always, but still looking nice with a floral button down and skinny jeans. He smiles widely as his eyes fall on Dan. “Morning!” he says, closing the door behind him. “Sorry for interrupting your guys’ conversation.”

Dodie shakes her head as she stands up from her seat. “No, we were just talking about how I’m performing at the café this Friday, and I’d love it if Dan played with me again.” She looks up at Dan with one raised eyebrow.

“That’d be awesome!” Phil exclaims, patting Dan’s shoulder. Dan sends a smile in his direction.

“Yeah, yeah, that’d be fine,” Dan replies, putting his hands in his pockets.

“Great,” Dodie replies, smiling at Dan. She turns to Phil. “You should probably start getting those funeral flowers ready.”

“Right!” Phil exclaims.

“Before you go…” Dan interrupts, stopping Phil from turning around to begin sorting through their flowers and picking out the ones that they want for the funeral. Dan picks up Phil’s coffee and hands it to him. “…here’s a caramel macchiato for you.”

Phil smiles graciously and wraps a quick arm around Dan’s shoulders in just a friendly hug. “Thank you,” he says. “Sorry I wasn’t able to make it. I’m sure Dodie explained it.”

Dan nods his head. “You’ll just have to make it up to me later,” he replies.

Phil smiles, looking over Dan’s face for a few moments before turning around to begin his work.

Dan turns back to Dodie, who has a questioning look.

“What?” Dan asks.

“Hmm…nothing,” Dodie replies as she picks up Dan’s coffee and takes a sip of it. She grimaces as she swallows and she sets it back down. “I was trying to act cool, but dear God, why do you have black coffee?”

Dan leans his head on his hand and smiles proudly at Dodie. “Have to have a coffee that matches my soul.”

Dodie just rolls her eyes.

————————————————

“The tour is back on!” PJ exclaims into the phone.

Dan is currently on break at All Booked Up, and he’s stood in the back room on the phone, trying to be as quiet as possible so the people out in the store don’t hear him.

“What do you mean? Did you find a replacement?” Dan asks.

“Yep!” PJ replies. “He’s a decent player, not as great as you, but it’s the best we can do. The Brighton show is going on tomorrow night, and then we’ll finish all the UK shows after that.”

“Awesome,” Dan says, sticking his hands in his pockets as he spins in large circles around the room.

PJ laughs. “So, yeah, it’s really awesome.” He lets out a sigh. “So, how’re things going with you?”

Dan nods his head. “Things are going really awesome,” he says simply.

“’Awesome’?” PJ repeats.

“Yep,” Dan replies. “Um…work’s been fine, life’s been fine, yeah.”

Before PJ can ask anything else, the door opens, revealing Evan standing there. “Dan, Phil is here,” he says.

 _My saving grace_ , Dan thinks to himself. He nods his head at Evan, who closes the door behind him as he leaves. “Look, I’ve gotta go. A…a friend’s here. Sorry.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Keep me posted, yeah?” PJ asks.

“Definitely,” Dan replies. He pulls away the phone without saying a proper goodbye and hangs up the call. He lets out a long sigh and closes his eyes.

This is getting to be a little too much for him to handle.

———————————————–

The next morning, the sound of the front door to Chris’s flat opening catches Dan by surprise.

“What are you doing here?” Dan asks, rubbing his eyes as he walks into the living room. He had just gotten out of the shower, his hair curling up and his mind not yet having woken up from sleep yet.

Chris had left for work about half an hour before then, so it definitely wasn’t him. So, Dan quickly put on his clothes and came out of the bathroom to see Phil standing there, looking fully awake and ready to begin the day.

He’s much more of a morning person than Dan is, but only when he’s had his coffee. Before then, he’s usually a grump that doesn’t want anyone to talk to him. But once that caffeine hits him, he’s back to his normal “Phil” self.

“Don’t you have to work?” Dan adds as he walks over to Phil and drearily wraps his arms around him, laying his head sleepily on his chest.

“Dodie and Lou have it taken care of for today,” Phil explains as his nimble fingers run through Dan’s wet hair. He nuzzles his nose against Dan’s forehead. “And I knew you had the day off, so Chris gave me a spare key so I could come in.”

Dan hums, the noise muffled by the fabric of Phil’s shirt.

“And I was thinking,” Phil continues twirling a particularly long ringlet around his finger, “that we do something a little fun today. An adventure, if you will.”

“Does it involve me moving a lot? Because I’m still basically asleep.”

Phil chuckles, and Dan feels the vibrations of his chest. “Not for, say, half an hour or so.”

Dan furrows his eyebrows, suddenly feeling more awake. He lifts his head and sends a questioning look to Phil, not even needing to say anything.

Phil smiles. “Let’s spend the day in Manchester.”

—————————————-

Obviously Dan couldn’t say no to a day trip in Manchester.

Especially one with Phil.

They decided to have quick breakfast first in a cute little diner near Chris’s flat.

“Dodie seemed on to us,” Dan noted after they had ordered. “As in ‘us-us’.”

Phil chuckled. “She notices a lot,” he replied. “More than I realize, I guess.” He shrugged his shoulders. “When the time comes, we’ll tell them.”

Dan nodded his head and decided to change the subject. “So, what made you want to go to Manchester today?” he asked curiously.

Phil shrugged his shoulders as he swirled the straw in his glass of water around. “Just kind of wanted to go,” he replied. “Wanted something to do with you today, and I thought taking you to Manchester would be nice.”

Dan smiled and leaned his head on his hand. “I’ve only ever been to Manchester once,” he explained. “And I was quite young.”

“Well, it’s a good thing that  _I’ve_  been to Manchester roughly a billion times,” he replied. “I’ve got some ideas for where we can go.”

—————————————-

Afterwards, Phil decided to be the one to drive them, despite him mentioning earlier that he’s not exactly the greatest driver, considering it took him roughly four times to pass his driving exam to get his license.

“It’s just that I know the way to Manchester better,” Phil replied as they walked back to Chris’s flat, where Phil’s car was parked in front of the building, meaning he had somehow successfully driven there that morning to get Dan.

“You could give me the directions,” Dan suggested.

“I’m bad at verbalizing them,” Phil replied as he walked around to the driver’s side. He tugged on the door, but it wouldn’t budge. “Shoot, it’s still locked.”

Dan shook his head and smiled fondly at his boyfriend, who was now pulling out his keys from his pocket. “You absolute dork.”

Dan eventually just decided to give up on the fact that Phil was driving, and said he would be fine with it as long as he had control over the music they listened to on the way there.

Eventually they were off, their windows down despite it being slightly chilly out, Phil with a comforting hand on Dan’s knee (“don’t look at me like that – I can drive with one hand! I promise!”), and both with excited smiles on their faces.

They got to the city at around ten in the morning, meaning they had plenty of time in the day to spend there.

Phil started off by just driving Dan around the town, giving a quick tour of the city and pointing out various places and sites and his favorite places to go within the city.

Afterwards, Phil parked somewhere and the two walked around the city instead, wanting to get some fresh air. They held their hands tightly between them and they walked close together, their feet in synch with each other. They talked and laughed as they followed along with the flow of the crowd. They stopped in various shops and looked around, but never staying for long.

Eventually, they stopped for lunch and ate outside, once again, despite it being slightly chilly outside.

“You look like you have something you want to do,” Dan noted as he watched Phil pick the crust off his sandwich.

“That’s very specific,” Phil replied with a laugh as he looked up at Dan. “How can you tell?”

Dan shrugged his shoulders. “I know these things.”

Phil smiled and set the crust on the plate. “Well…how would you feel about looking at some plants?” he suggested.

Dan nodded his head. Of course that’s what it was – this is Phil he’s dealing with. “I’d like that. I could always use some more plant knowledge.”

So, after their lunch, they headed back to Phil’s car and headed to a botanical garden in the southern part of the city. It was outdoors and spread out over ten acres, so a fairly decent amount of land.

They walked slowly behind all the other people visiting, Dan’s arms wrapped around Phil’s bicep to help keep him warm. Phil knowingly pointed out different species of plants, rambling facts about the plants he found the most interesting.

“That’s sourwood,” Phil explained as he pointed to smaller sized tree with bunches of green leaves growing out of the stems. “They’re mostly found in America.”

“But they grow fine here in cold Manchester?”

Phil nodded his head. “They require acidic soil in order to grow,” he said. “And they have to be farther away from other trees to grow; the roots work best when they’re not basically competing for room to grow.”

That is how it went for their trip around the garden: Phil pointing out facts, Dan asking questions, and sharing some other banter along the way. Dan loved seeing Phil’s excited face as he shared all the facts he knew about certain plants and how at home he felt with the nature. Dan would’ve stood there and listened to him talk about flowers and trees and whatever else all day.

They spent a good amount of time roaming around the area, going back around certain parts of the gardens a few times just to spend more time hearing the sounds of the leaves blowing in the wind and the aromatic smells of the soil and plants.

Eventually, they decided to leave the gardens so they could go grab some dinner and head home to Rawtenstall.

———————————

When they got back to town, they went back to Phil’s place, where they lounged on the couch, sharing lazy kisses as reruns of shows they’ve both seen a million times played on the tele.

Dan grabs Phil by his face gently, his thumbs smoothing over the skin of Phil’s chin and presses a long kiss to his lips, relishing in the texture and taste. One of Phil’s hands is spread over Dan’s back, while the other holds him gingerly by the back of his neck, keeping the boy close to his face.

“Thank you for today,” Dan says in-between kisses, his voice hushed and low.

Phil grins as he pulls away, leaning his forehead against Dan’s. He doesn’t say anything, but the look in his eyes is enough. Dan runs his fingers through Phil’s black hair, his thumb gliding over his cheekbone. He leans in again and kisses him, but he takes it a step further by climbing onto Phil’s lap, straddling him, the kisses now becoming desperate.

Dan wraps his arms tightly around Phil’s neck as Phil separates his lips from Dan’s, now kissing his jawline and neck. Dan holds on tightly, closing his eyes as he takes in the touches. He bites his lip to hold back moans of pleasure as Phil sucks on a particularly sensitive section of his neck.

It goes on just like that: desperate kisses and little noises filling the room. Eventually Phil places his forehead against Dan’s, their chests heaving and their breathing shallow.

“Do you want this?” Phil asks.

Dan doesn’t hesitate to nod his head. “Yes, yes, I do. But only if you do, too.”

Phil nods his head as well.

————————————–

He wasn’t ready to actually go the whole way, since this was his first time with another man. So, they settled on something easier for Dan to handle.

It was slow at first, Phil being cautious as his hands and mouth did their jobs.

Dan writhed against the sheets of Phil’s bed, his nose taking in the oh-so-familiar scent of his boyfriend as his eyes closed and his mouth let out little pleasurable noises.

“You’re so beautiful,” Phil would whisper into his ear, “you’re amazing. You’re so beautiful.”

That made Dan beg for more, wishing for the slowness to end and for Phil to pick up the pace. Phil laughed when Dan told him that, and he leaned over and pressed kisses all over Dan’s face.

“Anything for you,” he said.

After that, it was unlike anything Dan had ever experienced before in his life. His mind wanted to replay these moments forever, with Phil’s naked body on top of his, with their lips connecting and other things going on at the same time.

And as Dan lay next to Phil, who had fallen asleep before him, he smiles widely as his hands run through the black locks gingerly.

He leans over and kisses his nose, feeling a warmth in his chest that he could only think was love and admiration.

He lays his head down on his chest, feeling the warmth and hearing the soothing sounds of his resting heartbeat. He wraps his arms tightly around him, never wishing to let go.

“Thank you,” he whispers before his mind drifts off to the world of sleep.

—————————————-

“You have a skip in your step. Should I be worried?” Chris asks when Dan comes into work the next day, only around two hours late.

Dan smiles to himself. “Not at all,” he replies, shaking his head. “Not at all.”

Chris gave him a questioning expression before turning back to his work, not wishing to ask anything else.

————————————–

“Are you doing the same set list as last time or no?” Phil asks Dodie as he stands next to Dan, his hand resting on the back of the chair Dan is seated at, tuning his guitar.

It’s Friday night, meaning time for Dan and Dodie’s second performance at Live Today Café. They practiced a little bit together the night before, just the same five songs they did before, as those seemed to go on pretty well, and it has been two weeks since their previous performance, so the people who listened to their first show might have forgotten what the songs were.

“I think so,” Dodie replies, checking the volume of the keyboard, making sure it’s loud enough.

“It’d be easier to just do what we did before,” Dan says, leaning his head back on Phil’s arm discretely, wanting to feel his comfort. He’s been quite lovey-dovey with Phil since that night earlier this week, wanting to be near him all the time. He wanted to before, but ever since that night, it’s just intensified.

“Unless you know any other songs that I could easily sing and/or learn the chords to,” Dodie suggests, shrugging her shoulders. “But, yeah, I think it’d just be better to stick to the original. We’re boring like that.”

She and Dan share a little high-five, and Dodie presses a friendly kiss to Phil’s cheek. “Well, Lou and Chris should be here soon, but I’m going to go to the loo to touch-up my makeup before they get here,” she announces. She pats both of the boys lovingly on their cheeks before hopping off the stage and heading over to the bathroom.

Once she is gone, Dan fully turns around on his seat and presses a short little kiss to Phil’s lips, which he gladly returns.

“I’m getting really bad at hiding it,” Dan says, referring to him and Phil being together.

Phil grins and kisses the top of Dan’s head. “We’ll tell them eventually,” he replies. “I’d just like to keep it to ourselves for a while, y’know?”

Dan nods his head and presses his forehead against Phil’s bony shoulder, which is uncomfortable to every other person besides Dan. Dan finds it consoling. “Yeah,” he responds simply.

Phil pokes Dan’s cheek, where his dimple would normally appear. “Hey, wipe that frown off your face,” he says, laughing lightly. “Let me see your smile.”

Dan rolls his eyes and can’t help but erase the solemn look and replace it with a grin.

“There; that’s what I like to see,” Phil says, kissing Dan’s nose.

“Dork,” Dan whispers, nudging his nose against Phil’s chin.

“That’s what they call me.”

Dan laughs and closes his eyes. He can feel the three words on his tongue, but he knows it’s probably far too soon for them to say it. But he feels it in his chest and in his heart, and he truly means what he wants to say, but he can’t bring himself to do it just yet. Soon, he’ll tell him. And soon they’ll tell their friends, too.

As he thinks this, their little moment is interrupted by Chris and Louise coming into the café, Phil separating himself from Dan the second the door opens. He smiles and greets them, acting as normal as possible as Dan smiles to himself and warms up his fingers on the guitar, plucking the familiar guitar melody of “Unintended” by Muse.

———————————————-

“…I’m Dodie Clark, and this is my good friend Dan Howell…” Dodie greets half an hour later into the microphone, their performance beginning.

Phil, Louise, and Chris are sitting at the table closest to the stage, and Dan has to keep his eyes trained on Dodie so he doesn’t stare at Phil for too long, because Lord knows that could happen very easily.

“…and we’re going to be performing a few songs for you this evening,” Dodie continues, adjusting the mic so it is directly in front of her mouth. She continues to speak about the first song they’re going to play and how it’s one of her favorites to perform.

While she is speaking, Dan takes the time to observe their audience. A few people are sitting at the tables and booths, sipping their evening tea or coffee, some people typing quietly on their computers, and others watching the two of them as they prepare to perform.

The bell above the front door jingles, catching Dan’s attention. He turns his eyes and looks at the door, seeing two people walking in. One holds the door open for the other, and just as the person is about to let the door go, someone else rushes up to the door and takes it from them so they can step inside.

Dan’s eyes widen when he sees who that person is.

There, standing in the doorway, is PJ.

Dan gulps nervously as he ducks his head, praying that PJ doesn’t recognize- oh  _God_ , Dan is up on a stage where everyone can clearly see him. He literally has no way of hiding unless someone extremely tall stands up in front of him for the entirety of the show.

Dan keeps his eyes trained on the neck of his guitar, lightly touching the strings with the pads of his fingers, waiting for Dodie to finish her little talk.

Dan peeks up a little bit and sees Phil giving him a questioning look, as if asking him if he’s okay, and Dan just nods his head, not sure what else to do. Phil doesn’t look convinced, but gives him two thumbs-up anyway.

For the entirety of the show, Dan either keeps his eyes on the guitar, on Dodie, or even just on the floor. Dan’s positive PJ is still in the room, and he knows PJ knows that it’s him and not some other guy called Dan who conveniently has the same emo haircut, ability to play the guitar, and social awkwardness as Dan Howell, lead guitarist of The Tomorrows.

Once they have completed their set, they receive a nice round of applause from the audience, and both him and Dodie take a bow. Right afterwards, they get to work packing up their things.

Phil, Louise, and Chris come up just as Dan begins to zip up his guitar case and as Dodie unplugs the chords from the keyboard.

“As fantastic as always!” Chris exclaims, clapping his hands as he walks over to Dodie.

“Thank you!” she replies, giving him a side hug. “I think it went really well.”

Louise nods her head. “It was wonderful,” she says. She walks over to Dan, who stands up, holding his guitar case. She pats his face. “You did wonderfully.”

Dan smiles and nods his head. Louise grins back and turns to Dodie, talking with her and Chris about what they thought of the show in detail.

Phil furrows his eyebrows at Dan. “Are you okay?” he asks. “You’re looking kinda pale.”

Dan shrugs his shoulders. “Just kinda not feeling well,” he replies, hoping that it’s a good enough excuse for Phil.

“Like, ill? Like you’re going to throw up?” Phil asks concernedly, taking Dan’s guitar case away from him so he doesn’t have to hold it anymore. Phil sets it down on the floor and lifts up Dan’s hair with one hand, then places his other wrist on his forehead. “You’re feeling kind of warm.”

“I just kinda want to go home and rest,” Dan requests.

Phil nods his head knowingly. “We can do that-“

“Dan?” PJ’s voice sounds from below the stage.

All five of them turn around to see PJ standing there, his hands in his pockets and a little smile on his face.

Dan’s heart rate spikes to unearthly levels, and his limbs go numb. Without looking at the other people, he shakily waves to PJ and clears his throat. “Um…h-hey, PJ,” he says. He can almost feel the confusion radiating off Phil and Louise. Chris and Dodie already know about PJ, but in two different ways, so Dan can bet they’re not exactly confused about the situation.

“I’m so glad I found you, man,” PJ replies, stepping up onto the stage. “I’ve been going all ‘round town looking for you. Then I overheard people talking about you performing here tonight, and I saw your car parked in front of the shop.”

Dan nods his head once. “Y-yeah…” He clears his throat and gestures to PJ. “Um, guys, this is…this is my friend, PJ.” He bites his bottom lip. “Um, Peej, these are my friends Dodie, Louise, Chris, and Phil.”

“It’s a pleasure,” PJ says, nodding his head. Dan still refuses to turn his head to see everyone’s expressions. PJ keeps his attention on Dan. “We were in Manchester stopping for a show, so I thought I’d stop by and see you while on break.”

“A show?” Louise asks curiously, which makes it feel like something is stabbing into Dan’s chest. He wishes he could just pause time right now and erase all of this, or that he could somehow turn invisible and drift off into the twilight. “What do you mean?”

“For the band,” PJ replies. “We’re finally getting to all our concert dates since the postponement, and tomorrow night’s the Manchester show. Thought maybe Dan could come and play. You guys could come-“

“Wait, I’m confused,” Phil interrupts, and Dan feels his entire body freeze up with anxiety. What would make him the happiest person in the world right now is if he could just implode on himself so he doesn’t have to go through any of this anymore.

PJ’s eyes widen. “Oh, shit, did you never tell them?” he asks, his hand flying to his mouth.

Dan’s eyes go impossibly big as his entire world crumbles before his eyes.

“Never told us what?” Phil asks, stepping back from Dan, looking at him with a look Dan has never seen on his face before. Dan looks away, but only to see Louise with a similar expression, Chris and Dodie both with pale faces and looks of just awe and shock.

“Um…” PJ hums, his hands now going behind his back.

“What did he never tell us?” Phil asks, his voice just slightly louder than it was before.

“Dan…?” Louise asks, her voice much softer than Phil’s, which is quite odd, as it is normally the other way around.

“Um…should I…should I go?” PJ asks, pointing to the door.

“Dan, just tell them,” Dodie begs, wrapping her arms around herself.

Phil just becomes even more confused. “Wait, Dodie knows?” he asks, pointing to her. “She knows and I don’t?”

Dan covers his face with his hands. “I was going to tell you,” he mumbles, his voice cracking and his chest aching with a pain he’s never experienced before in his life.

“What, when?” he asks. “When were you going to tell me?”

“I…I…I don’t know.”

“What is it, Dan?” Phil asks, his voice slightly softer, but still with that hint of either anger or annoyance. Dan can’t exactly tell, as he’s not used to hearing it.

Dan sniffles and runs a nervous hand through his hair. “Um…um…” he mumbles, not sure how to word it in a way that will make it least likely for Phil to become upset. He knows Phil is a difficult person to get angry, but Dan knows he’s probably just found a way. He’s definitely fucked up bad this time.

He sniffles and takes a deep breath. “Um…the…the…uh…I’m…I never…I never told you guys…that, uh…”

“Dan’s in a band with me,” PJ says, wanting to rip the band aid right off the wound. “Like, not some garage band or whatever, but like a legit band with a fanbase and everything. Our music’s on the radio, we have an album out, and we’re on tour right now. Dan’s the lead guitarist.”

The whole room falls silent, even the people sitting in their seats sipping their coffees and talking with their friends. Everything just becomes eerily quiet.

Dan’s blood is pumping faster than his body can handle. His heart pounds excruciatingly hard as he waits for any sort of response from anyone.

“I’m sorry,” Dan whispers, mostly to Phil than to the other three.

Phil shakes his head. “You were hiding something that big from me?” he asks quietly, to the point where no one could hear except for Dan. “You were hiding your entire life from me, and yet I shared everything with you.” He frowns and steps off the stage.

“Phil-“ Dan tries, but Phil refuses to hear him. “Phil, I was going to tell you! I’m sorry!”

Phil doesn’t look back as he marches to the door, slamming it open and stepping out, walking away.

“Dan,” Louise says, reaching over to touch him in any way to comfort him.

Dan shakes his head, feeling tears come to his eyes. He glances up at Dodie, who has an unreadable expression. Chris looks sad, and also as if he doesn’t have words for the situation.

Louise wraps her arms around him for a few moments in a motherly fashion. Afterwards, Dan lets PJ grab him by the arm and leads him out of the shop, taking his guitar with him, and they go to Dan’s car, leaving the other three behind.

—————————————-

_“Your call has been forwarded to an automated voice messaging system. After the tone, please leave your message.”_

Dan looks up to the ceiling as he hears the long beep ring through the speaker on his phone. He lets out a sigh and closes his eyes. “Phil, it’s Dan, um….please give me a call whenever you can. I really need to talk to you. I miss you. Please call. Thanks.” He pulls the phone away and presses the “call end” button on his phone, setting it aside afterwards.

There’s a knock on the door, and Dan looks over to see PJ entering, a mug of tea in his hand, the steam still escaping out of the top of the cup. He gives Dan a sad smile, and Dan gives a similar one back to him as he pulls the blanket wrapped around his body even tighter.

“We’re making plans to have one of the roadies go back to Rawtenstall to grab your things,” PJ says as he sets the mug down on the coffee table in front of Dan. He then takes a seat on the armchair adjacent to the couch Dan is laid on. “All of it was just at…” he looks at Dan, wishing for him to help continue his sentence.

“Chris.”

PJ nods his head. “…at Chris’s house, right?”

Dan nods his head as well.

“So, we’ll get all that stuff back before we leave Manchester for…I think our next show is in Leeds.”

Dan nods his head again, but his eyes show that he’s clearly not in the conversation. His eyes are glossed over, like he’s completely focused on something else, which he definitely is. His eyes keep falling back to his phone, which lays still, the screen not lighting up with a call from anyone, which is exactly the opposite of what Dan wants to happen right now.

He truly, truly, truly fucked up this time. More than he has ever in his entire life.

“You okay?” PJ asks after a few seconds of silence have passed.

Dan pulls his knees up to his chest, and he rests his chin on his knees. He lets out a long sigh and feels the tension and pain in his back and shoulders. He’s not comfortable. He doesn’t feel right – there’s definitely a part of him just missing.

“I miss him,” he whispers. He feels the tears come to his eyes, but he’s definitely cried enough today. He doesn’t want to cry anymore. He can’t.

“Phil?”

Dan nods his head. “I fucked it up.”

PJ bites his bottom lip and scratches the back of his neck. “Was…was he…?” he draws out the sentence, knowing Dan will understand how he wishes to finish off the question.

Dan just nods his head.

“I’m really sorry, Dan,” PJ apologizes, moving from his spot to sit next to Dan. “You don’t know how sorry I am that I did that to you.” He places a hand on Dan’s back. “They just…you know? They were begging for an answer, and you couldn’t talk, and I had no idea that they didn’t know…I thought you had told them.”

Dan shakes his head and he closes his eyes. “I…I thought…I don’t know…I thought  _you_  knew I didn’t tell them,” he says.

“I’m sorry,” PJ apologizes. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I thought it was the right thing to do.”

“It’s okay,” Dan says, his voice cracking. He blinks his eyes multiple times, attempting to get rid of the tears that are going to fall. “I just…I just wish he would let me…y’know…talk to him.” He looks up at the ceiling. “Or that I could just go back in time and just tell him everything.”

The room falls into silence again, PJ’s hand still on Dan’s back, Dan still trying to hold back tears, and the phone to Dan’s right still not brightening up with a phone call from the one person he wants to talk to right now.

Dan completely understands why Phil is pissed or disappointed or whatever other emotion he could be right now. No matter what it is, Dan gets it. Dan would react similarly, if not more extreme, if someone he cared about hid something so big and so important from him. He doesn’t blame Phil at all.

God, he’s such a fucking idiot.

PJ draws out a long breath. “Um…” he says as he pinches the bridge of his nose, “I know this isn’t exactly the kind of question you want to hear, but…but why…why  _didn’t_  you tell them?”

Dan only wraps his arms around his legs even tighter. “I wanted to forget about it,” he answers. “That’s all I wanted to do. I didn’t want to be Dan Howell, lead guitarist of The Tomorrows. I wanted to be Dan Howell, that guy who’s really awkward and has an unhealthy addiction to coffee and video games.” PJ laughs lightly at that. “All I wanted to do was be a normal person, and I thought that if…if I didn’t mention that, hey, I’m in a band that has a lot of fans, that they…I don’t know…wouldn’t treat me the same.” He shrugs his shoulders. “That they would only want to be my friends  _because_  of that.” He shakes his head. “I just want to be normal, Peej. That’s all I want.”

“And that’s just the whole reason why you left, right?” PJ asks.

Dan nods his head. “I can’t handle all of this,” he replies, gesturing to the room. “All the fans, the fame, the articles being written about me, the constant judgement, Ryan, all this shit,” he replies. “It’s good for some, but I don’t think for me. I don’t like being away from home or being forced to play guitar for long periods of time. When I was there in Rawtenstall, Dodie, the girl I was performing with, she only had us practice every other day for only an hour or two. I could still feel my fingertips afterwards, and I didn’t feel like I was going to die.”

“Dodie was the girl with brown hair, right?” PJ asks.

“Yeah. Why?”

“She was telling you to tell the others what was going on,” PJ replies. “So…did she know?”

Dan nods.

“How?”

Dan chuckles a little bit, but his frown instantly returns afterwards. “She listens to us,” he answers. “She recognized who I was the second she met me, but she didn’t bring it up until later. She was actually trying to get me to tell everyone else.”

“Did she treat you any differently after you confirmed who you were?”

Dan pauses for a few seconds, perusing his memories of all his interactions with Dodie after that conversation they had. She treated him the same during all those times: a fun, playful friendship.

He turns his face to PJ and shakes his head. “No,” he replies.

“And why did she want you to play with her during her show things?”

“…because she thought I was good.”

“So she didn’t just because you’re a famous guitarist?”

“…no.”

“So she didn’t treat you any differently?”

“…no.”

“So why wouldn’t any of the others?” PJ questions. “I mean, that blonde girl-“

“Louise.”

“-yeah, her, she was hugging you after you told her. She wasn’t mad. Chris didn’t look upset.” He shrugs his shoulders. “Phil, on the other hand, is a different story.”

Dan nods his head. “I was definitely a lot closer with him than the others.” He exhales deeply. “But I understand why he reacted the way he did. I just wish I could fix it all.”

“And you will,” PJ replies, fully wrapping his arm around his friend. “It’s all going to work out. You’ll find a way to make it all better. I promise. It might happen soon, and it might happen later. We can’t really tell. But what I can tell you is that it  _is_ going to get better.”

——————————————–

The next day, at seven in the morning, before breakfast, the band had to go through mic checks for the evening’s show. Dan sat on the edge of the stage, his phone clutched in his hand as he listened to Ryan sing notes into his microphone, making sure the volume levels were good.

His other bandmates (besides PJ, of course) didn’t really speak to him that much since his arrival in Manchester. They merely asked how he was doing when they were there at his return, but after that, all Dan received were passing glances of sympathy. Dan tried not to focus on it all, as that would just be more to add to his anxieties about all his friends that he has probably just lost.

He doesn’t need more to worry about. Though Dan’s thinking the universe is just out to punish him for all the shitty stuff he’s done in the past. It’s as if God is just watching Dan’s life falling apart as if it’s a comedy special.

Once again, Dan doesn’t blame him.

After mic checks, which took an ungodly amount of time, they were allowed to leave and have a short breakfast while the pyrotechnics worked out their stuff with the stage. Dan, despite not having eaten much in the past twelve hours, opted out of breakfast, thinking it would just make him want to vomit. He’s had a sickness in his stomach that always comes whenever he’s anxious, and he’d rather not make it worse by adding food into the mixture.

Afterwards, they were all sent to rehearse, obviously Dan’s favorite thing in the entire world. He reluctantly brings both his acoustic and electric guitars with him to a little practice room, where amps were already in there for him and PJ.

Ryan passed Dan a set list once all five guys were settled in the room. “Thought you might need it since you haven’t played with us in so long,” he said in a snarky tone.

What Dan wanted to do was crumple the piece of paper and shove it into his big head, but he remained calm and just took the paper, setting it on the floor, probably never to be looked at.

They tuned, Dan making sure to give extra attention to his acoustic, since that’s what Ryan always drags him for. His acoustic isn’t new like his electric, so the tuning pegs are sensitive, and with the drastic weather changes, it makes it even more difficult to keep in tune.

But he has to make sure it’s perfect, even though it’s a stupid rehearsal.

They go through the motions: practicing all the songs in order, not making any comments until the end, in which they would then go back to all the songs that need work done and fix those mistakes they pointed out before. Then they’d go through the entire set list another time, and then they would get to leave and rest before the show.

As in they would have one or two hours to nap and eat, but then a meet and greet or interviews would take place, then makeup and wardrobe, then the concert, and then more meet and greets, and then riding on the bus.

All Dan wants to do is lay down on his bed at home and not have to think about anything anymore. Sleeping for approximately fifty-seven hours sounds just about right.

But, no, he has to deal with this first.

Of course, all negative comments are directed towards him, so he literally can’t catch a break.

“Dan, you’re posture isn’t good. Stop slouching.”

“Dan, you were a beat behind. Keep up.”

“Dan, that sliding noise from chord to chord is annoying. Fix it.”

“Dan, would you stop looking at your fucking phone? We’re rehearsing.”

And, of course, there were plenty more than that.

“Dan, seriously, what the fuck?” Ryan asks after having stopped their cover of Panic! at the Disco’s “House of Memories” for the fifth time.

“What?” Dan asks.

Ryan groans and slaps his hands down to his sides. “What the fuck are you doing? Why are you so…so…distracted? We’ve had to restart all these times because of you not coming in at the right time. What is wrong with you?”

Dan shakes his head, not wanting to have to bother with it anymore. “Nothing,” he replies simply.

“Well, would you do us all a favor and not waste our time?” Ryan asks. “We have a show tonight, and I’d prefer that it actually be good. Try harder.”

Ryan turns back around and shakes his head, muttering something under his breath before beginning to say they should start again.

Normally Dan would’ve just let the fact that Ryan clearly said something about him under his breath go straight to his heart, leaving him to dwell on for the rest of humanity. But something in him right now makes him want to ask what he just said.

So that’s what he does.

Ryan turns around when he hears Dan interrupt his order for the band to restart “House of Memories”. He merely smirks at Dan and shrugs his shoulders. “Nothing,” he says in a mocking tone.

Before Ryan turns around, some kind of power comes over Dan, forcing him up out of his chair, placing his guitar down on the chair. “No, seriously, I’d love to know,” Dan says. Not knowing what to do with his hands, he places them in the pockets of his jeans.

He’s still incredibly awkward, even when he’s trying to act tough.

“It doesn’t matter,” Ryan says, placing his hands on his hips confidently. He turns to the group and snickers. “There Dan goes again, distracting himself for the rather important task at hand. What more do we expect from him?”

Anger rushes through Dan’s body, and he walks over to Ryan, his face and the back of his neck beginning to blush. “Why are you so rude to me?” Dan asks.

Ryan cocks his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

Dan shakes his head. “You know what I mean,” he replies. “Why do you decide to be so mean to me but nice to everyone else? What did I do to deserve that?” Ryan opens his mouth to say something, but Dan can already predict what it’s going to be, so he is quick to interrupt him. “And I’m not just talking about right now – I’m talking about literally all the time. You’re so fucking rude to me, and I’m getting sick of it. You never treat me with respect.”

“Dan,” PJ says, getting up from his spot to stand by Dan. He places a hand on his shoulder and prepares to tell him to stop, but Dan shrugs him off.

“No,” he says to PJ, turning his attention back to Ryan. He points a finger at Ryan’s chest. “I’ve done nothing but put up with your shit for the last, what, four years or whatever. I’m sick and tired of your bullshit. I’m not just some robot that is going to do whatever it is you want me to – I am a fucking human being that has been taking all of your comments about how worthless and stupid I am for years, and I’m through. I’m done.

“I don’t want to do this anymore. I don’t want to deal with you, I don’t want to deal with your shit, and I don’t want to have to deal with any of this ever again. I  _quit_.” Dan finishes, turning around on his heel, grabbing his acoustic guitar from the floor where it had been laying before fully exiting the room, hearing PJ follow closely behind him.

“Dan, wait up!” PJ calls once they left the room.

Dan stops in his tracks once he’s at the end of the hall, but he doesn’t turn around to watch him approach. He just stands there, holding the guitar tightly in his hands and his head facing the floor.

PJ moves around so he is in front of Dan. “Are you actually quitting?” he asks.

Dan nods his head and runs his free hand over his face, feeling the adrenaline rush through his body. “I can’t do it anymore, Peej. I can’t,” he says, his voice much weaker than when he was confronting Ryan. “It’s not for me. This life isn’t for me. I can’t do it anymore.” He sniffles, and  _dear God_  the tears are coming again. “I know you love this so much, Peej, and you’re good with this, and I know you want me to do it, too, but I just can’t. I can’t do it anymore. I need my normal life back. I just-“

PJ wraps his arms tightly around Dan, interrupting him. Dan pauses for a few seconds, processing what is happening before placing his own arms around his friend. He instantly begins fully crying into the fabric of his shirt.

“I’m so fucking proud of you,” PJ whispers to Dan. “I’m so fucking proud.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Dan repeats, not knowing exactly why he’s saying it. It’s probably just his instincts taking over, where he constantly feels the need to apologize even though he doesn’t have to.”

PJ shakes his head. “This is what you need,” he says. “You were unhappy. I could tell. And I forced you back here, and I’m so fucking sorry I did that. You didn’t deserve that.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop,” PJ says, pulling away. He looks into Dan’s eyes. “This is where your life is meant to go.” He pats Dan’s cheek. “You’ll always be my best friend, no matter if we’re together or not. You need to get out of this life because it’s toxic for you. I understand that now.”

Dan nods his head.

“Now go out there and get your other friends back.”

————————————————-

“Chris!” Dan calls as he enters the familiar flat an hour later.

After calming himself down and getting himself well enough, he drove back to Rawtenstall, thanking the Lord he hadn’t left his keys there, as they contained his surefire way to getting in contact with Chris. Surely he would know what was going on with Phil.

“Burglar!” Chris’s voice exclaimed from the bedroom. The man runs out of the room a few seconds later, the sounds of his feet pounding against the wooden floor hurting Dan’s ears slightly.

Chris appears at the entrance of the flat, holding a hairbrush out in front of him as a weapon, his eyes closed tightly.

“Chris?” Dan asks.

Chris opens his eyes and sees that it is only Dan standing at his door. “Oh,” he says as he brings down the brush. He blinks a few times. “It’s just you.”

“Just me; no burglars or anything,” Dan says, chuckling to himself. He clears his throat.

Chris sets the brush down on a counter in the kitchen. “So…what’re you doing here?” he asks. “Aren’t you back with the band?”

Dan shakes his head as he sticks his hands in his pockets. “I officially quit,” he replies. He purses his lips. “Well, I’m sure there’s some forms I’ll have to fill out that’ll officially relieve me from the band, but…yeah, I’ve basically quit.”

Chris raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Really?” he asks. “I thought…I thought you’d prefer…well,  _anyone_  would prefer living a famous life over a…you know… _basic_  one, I guess you can say.”

“Famous life is not the one for me,” Dan explains. He lets out a long sigh. “Which…which is why I’m back here. Look, Chris, I’m really sorry for basically lying by omission-“

“I already knew you were in the band.”

Dan furrows his eyebrows, confusion striking him in the face like a brick wall. “Wait, what?”

Chris nods his head. “I googled you. And listened to some of the music. Pretty good, I must say.”

“When did you do this?”

“Like, the day after you came here. To make sure you weren’t a serial killer or anything.”

Dan smiles when he hears that. “Wait, legit?”

Chris nods again.

“So…so you knew the entire time?”

“Yep,” Chris replies. He shrugs his shoulders. “I mean, I kept waiting for you to actually come out and tell me that you’re actually really famous and have a pretty large group of teenage fangirls-“

“Shut up.”

“-but you never did, so I never thought to question it.”

Dan lets out a large sigh of relief, but there’s still a bit of tension in him. “Look, I’m still really sorry that I never told you. I should’ve but I was too stupid to think that it’s…you know…important information.”

Chris shakes his head. “I’m not the person you should be apologizing to.”

Dan nods his head. “I know,” he replies. “But said person isn’t answering his phone.”

“I’ve tried as well,” Chris says, taking a seat on a kitchen counter. “All goes to voicemail. Nothing’s worked. No one’s really able to get in contact with him except for Louise and Dodie.”

“So I should…?”

Chris nods his head.

Dan smiles and prepares to turn away to head to The Flower Pot, where he would most likely find the two, but he quickly stops in his tracks and faces Chris again. “Um…I never…I never actually properly told you thank you for letting me stay here. So…thank you.”

Chris grins and nods his head. “I’m sure you’ll be staying here even longer,” he says. “I’ll get the sheets ready.”

“Much appreciated,” Dan replies with a laugh.

————————————————-

“He’s really down,” Louise says to Dan, a solemn expression on her face.

They’re seated in the back room of The Flower Pot. Dan literally ran to the shop from Chris’s flat, not wanting to waste any time. He needs to see and speak to Phil as soon as possible, otherwise this guilt and agony growing in his body will overtake him. A bit dramatic, yes, but that is exactly what all of this feels like. He feels like if he doesn’t get the words that he needs to say out, he’ll implode.

Luckily Dodie and Louise are more than willing to sit down with Dan and talk to him about the whole situation and how he should handle it with Phil. He needs to make this right. He has to. He can’t bear the thought that he hurt Phil like that. He needs to fix his mistakes.

“Hasn’t spoken that much, either,” Louise continues, folding her arms neatly on the table. “It’s hard to get anything out of him.”

Dan sighs and runs a hand through his curling hair. “I really fucked up,” he says. “And now Phil wants nothing to do with me.”

Dodie reaches over and places a hand on top of his. “That’s not true,” she replies in a soft voice. “The latter part, I mean. You did fuck up, I have to admit.” She clears her throat, knowing that what she just said was definitely not what Dan wanted to hear. “Anyway, Phil really and truly cared for you. We could all tell. And when he finds the people that he truly loves, he never wants to let them go, even if that person…I guess…did something wrong to them.”

“He’s just a fragile person,” Louise explains. “A fragile soul. He might not seem like it, but anything wrong someone does to him, he takes it personally.”

“So he thinks he’s the one who did it?” Dan asks. “Like, the one who caused me to not tell him about it all?”

Louise and Dodie both nod their heads.

Dan sighs and rubs his forehead with both of his hands. The guilt just becomes worse. Phil of all people should not take the blame for what has happened. This was all Dan’s fault because he decided to be a fucking idiot and keep something from him. Phil didn’t deserve this, and Dan will forever be punishing himself for doing this to such an innocent person.

“So…what should I do?” he asks, his voice low.

“Talk to him,” Louise says, placing a comforting hand on Dan’s shoulder. Dan attempts to relax into it, but the tension is so bad that he can’t bring himself to do it.

“But he doesn’t want to talk to me,” Dan replies. “He won’t answer any of my calls. He’s completely ignoring me.”

Dodie and Louise look at each other for a few seconds, having a nonverbal conversation between the two of them. After a few seconds, they nod at each other.

“We can get that sorted out for you.”

————————————————

Fifteen minutes later, Dan and Phil are seated together on the couch in Chris’s home.

Dodie and Louise had called Phil earlier and practically begged him to go to Chris’s flat to talk with Dan. It took a lot of convincing and pleading, but eventually Phil gave in and decided to come over. Chris left to give the two privacy, and Dodie and Louise are still over at The Flower Pot working.

There’s an uncomfortable distance between the two of them, and Dan wishes nothing more than to bring Phil closer to him and wrap his arms around his body, holding him tightly to his chest. He wants to feel that familiar warmth, smell that same smell, and hear the steady heartbeat. That’s all he wants to do.

He’s fallen so quickly and so fast for this man that he doesn’t even know what to do with himself.

Phil looks so tired and worn, even though it’s only been a day. Bags are under his eyes, his hair is messy, his glasses are more off than usual, and it looked like he just slipped jeans on with his pyjama shirt. The expression on his face is unreadable.

Dan sighs and glances down at his hands. He clears his throat and looks up at Phil, staring into his blue eyes, which appear much duller than they usually are. “I’m…I’m really sorry,” Dan begins. He lets out a long sigh. “I was…I was an idiot. I…I kept such a big part of my life away from you, and I was a fucking idiot for it. You deserved to know, but I didn’t realize that. I’m so fucking sorry for hurting you. You did nothing to deserve that. I’m so, so, so sorry.”

He knows that’s not going to cut it. He realizes this by the long pause Phil is taking to figure out what to say.

“Why…why did you keep it from me?” Phil asks, his voice dry. It almost sounds like it hurts for him to talk, and Dan feels completely terrible for this poor, innocent man. “Why?”

Dan lets out a sigh and reaches over, placing a hand over his. “Um…because I wanted to forget that, um…being famous was my life,” he answers, shrugging his shoulders. “I…I didn’t want to deal with it anymore. I wanted to put it behind me. I didn’t want it anymore, so I thought by never speaking about it or talking about it, that it wouldn’t happen.

“I know this, uh, this might seem weird,” he continues after taking a few seconds to collect his thoughts, “considering most people strive for the kind of life I had, but…I didn’t and still don’t want to live that kind of life. It’s…it’s not the life for me. I hated everything about it except the music and because PJ was there. Those were the two reasons why I kept going, despite how much I fucking hated it.”

Dan clears his throat, feeling tears threatening to fall. He exhales, hoping that it will help calm him down, but instead, it only makes it worse. “Um…like I said before, I had been playing guitar since I was ten years old. I loved it. It was…it was the one thing I looked forward to when I got home from school. I would play my music before even thinking about doing homework or anything like that. That’s how I got so good at it – I spent literally every waking moment playing it.

“My parents weren’t too keen on how much I was playing. They liked that I finally had a hobby besides playing video games, but…but it was distracting me from my schoolwork. I just didn’t care, you know? It wasn’t my priority. All I cared about was my music and any other form of distraction from what I was actually meant to do.”

Dan lets out a long sigh as he reaches up to wipe his tears. He hasn’t looked at Phil once since he started telling this story. “Um…my parents, just…weren’t supportive, y’know? All they would say was ‘why aren’t you more like your brother, Dan? Why don’t you focus on the more important things in life, like school’ and shit like that. Nothing positive. No ‘hey, Dan, you did really well’ or whatever. It was all negative.

“It got even worse when I came out to them as bisexual when I was fourteen. They fucking obliterated me. Instantly everything I was doing was wrong and whatever and I just wasn’t doing what they wanted me to do anymore, not like I was before. I ended up spending most of my time over at my grandmum’s house just because I felt safer over there.

“I had that one girlfriend when I was sixteen just to make my parents happy,” he continues, trying his hardest not to burst into full-on tears. “I thought that by being in a long-term relationship with a girl would make them happy. It worked for a little bit, but I just wasn’t into the relationship, of course, and we broke it off. Then my parents were back to hating me again, basically.”

He pauses to sniffle. “Um…so…the band started when I was seventeen, at the beginning of year twelve. Once again, it was what I put all my time into – helping write songs, going to rehearsals, whatever. It was the coolest thing to me, and it was all I wanted to do with my life.

“It wasn’t hard for us to get picked up by labels. Our lead singer, Ryan, was getting pretty well-known on YouTube, and record labels started discovering us and asking if they wanted to sign us. By Christmas, I had dropped out of school to focus on this.”

Dan shakes his head and closes his eyes. “I was fucking young and stupid – wasting all those years I had spent in school and letting it all go. My parents were livid, and they kicked me out of the house, and I haven’t spoken to them or my brother since that happened. I moved in with my grandmum then, worked at a crappy DIY store for a bit, but got fired from that soon after I got the job.

“I thought my life was crumbling before my eyes – I was so fucking…depressed and whatever, and I just couldn’t seem to do anything right. Nothing was working. It was a really dark time for me, and…God, if I hadn’t been so fucking stupid…”

He sniffles and wipes his eyes again. “Anyway, after a year or so, we got picked up by the label they have now. I loved it at first – being in recording studios and rehearsals all the time was the best to me, and I loved having a growing fanbase as we began releasing singles on YouTube and whatever. I was on a high, basically.

“But after a while, it just started wearing off, and I started realizing how much bullshit it all was. Waking up at seven AM before breakfast to rehearse, being in the recording studio for long hours, my fingertips hurting so much, even to the point where they started bleeding,  _and_  having to deal with Ryan, who liked to point out every little thing I did wrong in the shittiest way possible, but never to the other guys.

“And it just kept getting worse for me: once we released the album, our fanbase grew drastically. New fans were appearing everywhere, noticing us when we were in the store or at the cinema or whatever. It was overwhelming. Then, hearing all the critics and hearing what people actually thought of my guitar playing. I didn’t get much negativity, but anytime there was, I took it straight to heart and would work myself as hard as I could to improve on whatever mistake I had made.

“Then, it got even worse: the touring. I thought perhaps this would be the fun part of the tour, but I was incredibly and ridiculously wrong. I would have to be away from home for weeks at a time, constantly have interviews with the same questions, be in rehearsals for four to five hours a day, and have to deal with Ryan constantly instead of every-now-and-again like before the album released.

“It just got too bad for me, and I just refused to do it anymore, so I took off one day and found myself here, where it seemed like no one recognized me…except for Dodie, who listened to the band. I felt like a normal person here, where I didn’t have to worry about constantly being judged or having the potential of being photographed doing something stupid or whatever.”

Dan shakes his head as he looks up at Phil, whose eyes are glossed over with tears. “And I met you, and I just…I just felt at home with you. I felt at peace. I felt like you truly got me as a person. You truly understood me and…I don’t know…I felt such a connection, you know? I didn’t…I didn’t want to let that go, and I didn’t want to…I don’t know…I just…you treated me like a human being, when for the past four years, I had been treated like some kind of machine with no emotional or physical needs. You cared for me, and that’s more than so many people in my life have done for me, and I just didn’t want to lose that.

“You made me decide that I definitely couldn’t go back to that life, even though that was all I had known for the past four years. You became my home, the place where I wanted to be always, and I didn’t want to lose that.”

Before Dan could continue, Phil leans forward and wraps his arms securely around Dan, the tears now cascading like a waterfall. Both boys just sit there, holding each other unimaginably tightly in their arms, not wanting to let go.

They sat there for an undeterminable amount of time – hours, minutes, seconds, they couldn’t tell. They just kept each other close, letting out all the tears that they were able to.

Phil is the first to pull away. He wipes his hands over his face, trying to get rid of all the drying tears. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that,” he whispers. “I’m so, so, so, so sorry.”

Dan shakes his head and holds onto Phil’s hands tightly. “Don’t apologize, please,” he begs. “It was me. It was all me. I was the one who did that to myself.”

“But you should’ve never been treated that way.”

“It happened, and I’ve moved on from it,” Dan replies, squeezing his hands in his. “It’s in the past now. I’ve moved on. It’s okay, Phil.”

Phil sniffles and pulls a hand away from Dan’s to wipe his face again.

“I’m so sorry I kept all this from you,” Dan says. “I’m so, so, so, so sorry. I should’ve been upfront with you about it. You didn’t deserve to find out the way you did. I’m an idiot, and I’m sorry.”

Phil shakes his head. “You’re not an idiot,” Phil whispers. “Don’t ever say that again.” He lets out an exhale. “I’m…I don’t know…I…I forgive you, Dan, for all of it. I really do.” He looks away for a few brief moments, trying to sort out his thoughts. “And I do care for you, Dan…more than I’ll ever be able to put into words or more than I’ll even be able to fathom, really, but…” he looks back over at Dan and places his hand on Dan’s jawline, Dan leaning into it without a second of thought, “I’m going to need some time…to…to recover from this. I’m not saying I won’t interact with you or whatever, because I definitely will, but…you know…I need to heal.”

Dan nods his head rapidly. “And I completely understand that,” he says. “I would recommend it, really.”

Phil gives a small smile. “I do care for you…so, so much. I’ve realized that…just how much you mean to me.” He chuckles. “Even though we haven’t known each other that long.”

“You just know with these kinds of things, though,” Dan replies. He places a hand over Phil’s and keeps it there, relishing in the warmth. “Can I kiss you now, though?”

Phil doesn’t even hesitate; he leans in and presses a short, simple kiss on Dan’s lips.

The weight on his shoulders is instantly released.

—————————————

_One year later…_

“Daniel James Howell, I have your caramel macchiato that you begged for!” Phil announces as he walks into All Booked Up, the fresh scent of lavender and paper wafting up his nostrils.

Dan, who had been in the science section of the store, instantly appears, walking up to Phil with a bright grin on his face. “Thank you, my good sir,” he replies, taking the cup from him. He leans up and gives Phil a kiss on the lips as another sign of thanks. “Are the plants in the window looking fine?”

“They look like they are growing wonderfully,” Phil replies, wrapping his arm around Dan’s shoulders, bringing him close to his chest. Dan gladly lays his head on Phil’s shoulder, taking a long sip of his coffee. “Have you been the one watering them?”

“Are you proud of me?” Dan asks.

Phil laughs and kisses his forehead. “Of course,” he replies. He leans in to press another kiss on Dan’s lips, but they are hastily interrupted by Chris.

“ _Oi! No PDA!_ ” he exclaims from his spot at the cash register.

Dan and Phil both laugh. “You should be used to it by now,” Dan notes.

“I am, but I’m mostly just upset that Phil didn’t bring me coffee, either,” Chris replies, crossing his arms over his chest. “Quite rude.”

Phil grins sheepishly. “I’ll be sure to bring you one in the future.”

“I appreciate it.”

Dan and Phil shake their heads as they look at each other again. Phil’s eyes brighten up when he remembers something he was going to tell Dan. “Oh, yeah! I listened to PJ’s album yesterday while I was working,” he says, lifting a hand to run his fingers through Dan’s hair. “It was really good. I like it a lot better than Ryan’s solo stuff. It was a lot more interesting and original.”

“Wasn’t it?” Dan asks excitedly. “I had Dodie and Louise listen to it, too, and we’re thinking that Dodie and I should do a cover of one of the songs at our next café performance.”

“That would be awesome,” Phil replies. “I approve.”

“Your approval is always necessary,” Dan says, kissing Phil’s shoulder through the fabric of his shirt.

Phil opens his mouth to say something else, but the vibration of the phone in his pocket interrupts him. He doesn’t even have to look at it to know what it is. “I should probably get to work,” he says, dropping a kiss to Dan’s head, releasing him from his arms.

“Aw,” Dan pouts. “Don’t go.”

Phil laughs and ruffles Dan’s hair. “Gotta make money to pay the bills,” he says, squeezing Dan’s hand. “Lunch break, though?”

“Can we do it at home?” Dan requests. “I think I left the tele on in the lounge.”

Phil rolls his eyes playfully. “I expected better of you.”

“Fuck you,” Dan replies, flipping him the bird.

“I know you want to, but we’re in a public setting, so we should probably wait until-“

“You fucking spork!” Dan exclaims, pushing him towards the door.

“I’m feeling the love!”

Dan shakes his head and laughs as he watches his boyfriend open the door. “Love you,” he calls.

“Ditto,” Phil replies, sending Dan an air kiss, which Dan pretends to catch and put in his pocket.

Dan watches as he leaves the shop, heading off to The Flower Pot with a smile on his face and a skip in his step. Dan smiles to himself, probably looking like an idiot, as he walks back to where he had previously been sorting books.

In the past, he used to want to trade anything for yesterday.

But now, he wouldn’t trade the present for anything in the world.


End file.
